


Forever and No Time at All

by marksmanfem



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, All of Time and Space, F/M, Outer Space, Regeneration, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 39,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marksmanfem/pseuds/marksmanfem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between Martha and Donna, the Doctor spent many years traveling and adventuring with a single companion, yet he never mentions her or that time to anyone. Why? Because she asked him not to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place mostly during the time between “Voyage of the Damned” and “Partners in Crime.”It mainly involves the tenth Doctor with brief cameos from nine and eleven. I've tried to make the story as “this could have happened between episodes in the show” as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place mostly during the time between “Voyage of the Damned” and “Partners in Crime.”It mainly involves the tenth Doctor with brief cameos from nine and eleven. I’ve tried to make the story as “this could have happened between episodes in the show” as possible.

—A lifetime shown in interludes…mostly in the proper order—

1\. In which the Doctor introduces himself and Alice melts and alien.

Alice is typical, but not stereotypical. She is attractive-looking enough without being attention-grabbingly beautiful. She did well on her exams, so she is intelligent; at least, she likes to think so. She likes to help people, and she likes to figure things out, but she often misses obvious things. She gets teased a lot, but people mostly mean well.

She has one tattoo, dead center between her shoulder blades, so she feels that she strikes a good balance between rebellious and sensible. She’s obviously creative and brazen enough to mark herself, but she’s chosen a prudent location so she can keep the design easily covered. She likes it, though, her tattoo. Feels it really explains her.

Alice tends to be a bit too straight-forward most of the time. Perhaps that’s why she’s still single. She doesn’t care, though. She’s got a decent enough job, a few friends though no family to speak of, and can do whatever she wants with her free time. She’s completely happy.

She also isn’t fooling anyone.

Of all the places in the world (or elsewhere) she meets him in a bar. She’s been stood up, and he is alone. 

She will come to learn later that he is almost always alone. She will also learn that he believes he is always alone.

He seems so empty and dejected at that moment, someone so much more miserable than herself, that she can’t help but want to cheer him up. He’s not right just then, she knows it, and she has to fix him.

From the first moment with him, it’s instinctual for her.

She offers to buy him a drink, says a cheesy line meant to make him smile, and he does, and the sun rises at midnight for Alice.

“Have we met before?” She asks. She has the strangest feeling about him. His smile brightens a fraction.

“I thought you already delivered your line.”

She holds back a smile, but just barely. There’s something so…

“It’s just that…I don’t know, you feel familiar to me. Like something that hasn’t happened yet.” She realizes the absolute absurdity of what she’s just said as he lets out a short, genuine laugh. 

She gives a reluctant half-smile, embarrassed. “That doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

“You have no idea how much sense it really makes. I’m the Doctor, by the way, and you are?”

And then a…thing…bursts in from the back, some monstrous shape too large, too horrid, and too absolutely wrong to exist. But it does, and there it is.

And it’s coming right at them. 

The Doctor is shouting at the thing, and she thinks he’s actually trying to reason with it. It lunges at the nearest table of people, and someone nearby is shrieking in pain. 

Apparently it’s not in a terribly reasonable mood.

And then she sees someone spill something on it, some random drink that smashes against its skin as it literally tears its way through the crowd. The thing shrieks, already-disfigured skin sizzling, and she doesn’t think as she grabs the nearest, largest bottle of alcohol and chucks it straight at the thing’s head.

There’s a shriek from nowhere of this world as smoke—actual smoke—gushes from the creature’s face and skin as the alcohol drips down.

Then she’s outside, looking down, and he’s got her by the hand, and this wonderful man is asking her— her— if she’s all right. She feels as if she could stand here with him like this for the rest of her life. Or as if she’s been doing it her whole life already.

Or both. Something like that.

He natters on about something that she knows is probably vitally important, but her head is spinning, and she’s wondering how many people inside won’t be getting back up.

“How’d you know to do that, then?”

She shakes her head, still trying to wrap her mind around the last five minutes.

“I saw someone spill a drink. The thing…it reacted badly, so I thought…y’know…” She trails off, capability of coherent speech draining away the longer he stares at her. 

She knows right then that she is a lost cause when it comes to the Doctor.

He eyes her speculatively for a moment longer, then grins.

“You never did tell me your name, by the way.”

“Technically, you didn’t tell me yours, either, Doctor.”

“I did, I’m called the Doctor. Just Doctor, nothing fancy.”

“Alright, Just Doctor, I’m Alice Evans.”

“Well, Alice Evans, you have a knack for this! That’s exciting…no, that’s brilliant!”

She can’t help but return his smile. Is he always this enthusiastic?


	2. 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Doctor loses his temper and a telepath keeps her company.

2\. **_In which the Doctor loses his temper and a telepath keeps her company_**.

 

 _Is he always this enthusiastic?_ That’s a confusing mixture of yes and no.

 

And he has a temper.

 

Alice learns many times over that the last thing anyone should want to do is something the Doctor thinks of as morally reprehensible. She’s very grateful that she never has cause to make him turn that glare on her. She’s not sure she could stand it.

 

It’s amazing to her how many creatures out there fear someone who does his best to never take a life and refuses to even carry a weapon; on the other hand, she completely understands where they’re coming from.

 

The Doctor confides in Alice that a woman named Donna once told him he needs someone with him sometimes just to stop him. He tells her the story of how he and Donna stopped an alien race from devouring the Earth on Christmas Day (what is it with him and Christmas?), and then he tells her how Donna stopped him from something he would have truly regretted.

 

“Not one hundred percent sure I would have lived through it, either,” he admits.

 

Alice understands what Donna meant, and from then on she tries her best to keep him from doing something he’ll regret. He seems to have enough things in his past that he regrets, though he usually won’t talk about it.

 

Her efforts earn his frustration more than a few times, and once he even leaves her for a few hours a few thousand years in the future a few hundred thousand miles from home on the planet they’ve just rescued.

 

As the tears stream down her face, Alice consoles herself that he would really have regretted what he was in the process of completing. The telepath next to her, a grape-fruit sized, purple ball of fur, silently assures Alice that he very much appreciates what she did and that he is very confident in the Doctor’s imminent return.

 

Far be it from her to deny the wisdom of purple balls of telepathic fur. Her new friend waits with her the whole time the Doctor is away, and it feels like forever.

 

The TARDIS reappears in front of Alice and slightly to her left. The Doctor steps out, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets. His eyes are sharp, brow furrowed. The corners of his mouth are turned distinctly down.

 

He’s still angry.

 

“I know what you’re doing,” he finally says. “I don’t like it, and I won’t always approve, but I suppose…sometimes… maybe I need it.”

 

She and the ball of fur watch him silently.

 

“How long did you wait?” he asks. His expression is unchanged.

 

Alice has no idea. Her new friend whispers in her mind.

 

“Five and a half hours.”

 

His eyes widen in surprise, a fraction of a moment only. He looks at the ground, scuffs the toe of his trainer in the dirt, and looks back at her.

 

“Always wait five and a half hours.”

 

He holds out his hand.

 

She makes her farewell to her new friend, an act that strongly reminds her of the boys at her college who used to stand around outside mucking about with their football.

 

She takes his hand.

 

“Six hours if you’re being especially stubborn?”

 

He doesn’t look at her as he closes the TARDIS door behind them.

 

“Better make it six and a half just to be safe,” he replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed what you read, please take a moment to leave behind a thought or two. Also, feel free to check out some of my other stories. Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

3\. **_In which questions are answered and an agreement is made_**.

 

Her least favorite question: What would the Doctor want you to do if he were still here?

 

Despite the absurdity of the question, Alice has heard it more times than she’d care to. She watches him die right in front of her only to have some miraculous time loop or master plan of his bring him back a few minutes or hours later.

 

Or he was never dead to begin with, and it’s all part of his master plan. She feels he could inform her of this occasionally, but he never seems to remember.

 

The whole time she thinks he’s gone, wherever they are, people assume since she’s with the Doctor (she is his companion, after all) that she’ll know what to do and how to save the day in his absence.

 

All while dealing with the magnitude of his death, of course.

 

She surprises herself more often than not and actually manages to make a difference in several situations during his supposed demise. Then he returns, and if she hasn’t saved the day yet, he takes care of it just as he always does.

 

Those are the happiest and hardest moments of Alice’s life. He knows it, and is always so apologetic, feels so horrible afterwards. He means well, but it doesn’t make the situation any easier.

 

After watching what she thinks is his public execution (she swears he’s dead this time, it was right there in front of her, and he’s gone), she nearly loses herself to the grief before he finds his way back to her. She doesn’t know what else to do when she can’t find his body, so she returns to the TARDIS and waits.

 

And waits. And slowly but surely falls apart.

 

He comes back, as he always does, but it takes Alice a very long time to speak to him again. So many questions, so much she doesn’t know or understand about him. So many things she wants to chuck at his head.

 

He tries to reassure her, reminding her that he will regenerate.

 

“But what does that mean? I don’t understand! You were there, they killed you, I saw it!” Someone’s screaming inside the console room, and she doesn’t realize it’s her until his hands are on her face and his eyes are inches from hers.

 

“Deep breath. Calm.”

 

Alright, she can do that.

 

“I’m here now, it was an illusion. I used a very strong perception filter, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. There wasn’t time, but I’m here now, I’m alright. You’re alright, Alice.”

 

He holds her for a long time, but the silence is deafening, and it closes in until questions are exploding through her mind.

 

“What does it even mean that you’ll regenerate? Can nothing kill you? Can you not age? How old are you? What…what do I do if you die on me for real?”

 

He takes his time, patiently answering each question with the same calm tones he uses on frightened aliens. Of course, to him, that’s exactly what she is.

 

“My memories will stay, my experiences, but my body will change. I’ll be a stranger, but as much the same person as I can be. As long as I can start the process before my hearts stop beating, I can regenerate from almost anything.”

 

She winces at the “almost,” but doesn’t interrupt. He’s never been this open before.

 

“I _will_ age, but differently than humans. You could be with me for fifty years, and I could age five years, one year, or not at all. Makes it hard to get a proper drink on some planets if I start off too young.”

 

He’s trying to lighten the mood, and while she appreciates his efforts, she can’t shake the horror of the last few hours. It’s going to take more than a few minutes of hugs and consolation. The Doctor leads Alice over to a seat and settles against it, pulling her down with him.

 

He sighs and gently kisses the top of her head. “I’m so old…older than I should be, older than you’ll ever be. I’ve been through nine other lives, nine long lives, and sometimes…Sometimes I forget how hard this kind of life is for you.” He stops then, is silent for a long time.

 

He rests his head on top of hers, and she wonders if he’s falling asleep. Faking your death must be tiring, after all. Then she wonders if he even sleeps at all. He’s always awake when she goes to sleep, always awake when she gets up, no matter the time.

 

“You want to know what to do if I die. If you are absolutely sure that I’m dead, try your hardest to get me back to the TARDIS. Even if something’s happened and I can’t regenerate, there are too many things out there that don’t need to get a hold of me, alive or dead. It’s the safest place for me to regenerate, the safest place for me to be if…well…”

 

The Doctor clears his throat, starts again. “If I don’t regenerate, the TARDIS is programmed to take you back to the night I first met you. Then you have to lock the door and walk away, let it turn into an old, rundown blue box on a street corner somewhere.”

 

He lifts her chin with a finger. “You’ll have to forget me and do the best thing you could possibly do…go and live a safe, normal life.”

 

“I don’t understand how you could think I would ever want or be able to do that after even an hour with you. It only took five minutes with you to change how I see everything.”

 

His eyes are serious as he replies. “Then there’s only one solution: never give up. Keep fighting until after the end.”

 

She sniffles, realizing what a mess she is, and smiles ruefully at him.

 

“Even then, I’m still too stubborn to quit. Just like you.”

 

His smile is grim, sad, pleased, and weary all at once.

 

“Just like me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for taking the time to read. If you enjoy what you've seen so far, please take a moment to leave a comment behind. Feel free to check out some of my other work.


	4. Chapter 4

4\. **_In which the obvious is pointed out and a craving is revealed_**.

 

He doesn’t like it when she dies, either.

 

Alice particularly infuriates The Doctor when she steps in front of a projectile meant for him. He later claims that, for him at least, it would have barely even itched. To be fair, there is no way she could have known that at the time. He tends to forget things like telling her vital information in advance rather than in retrospect.

 

He tells Alice that her heart stopped for a full minute. She tells him isn’t he glad they made their deal, then.

 

He sighs. “Don’t give up until after the end.”

 

“And even then we’re still too stubborn to quit,” she finishes. None of that dramatic wailing, gnashing of teeth, or rending of garments.

 

“I was close to rending this time,” he confides, looking ashen and uncharacteristically shaken.

 

She nods. She understands, has been there herself. Don’t give up until well after it’s a lost cause. Just in case. That’s the agreement.

 

He knows what she’s thinking and shakes his head. His face is stern and determined, showing more of his decades than she’d care to admit.

 

“No, that’s why you run when I tell you. Why does no one listen to me?”

 

Sardonic gaze versus stern stare. She wins eventually, though he’ll never admit it aloud.

 

“And how would you have saved the day if I hadn’t taken that shot?”

 

“I’d’ve thought of something!”

 

“When, while you were unconscious or while you were regenerating?”

 

He has no answer for this but a series of incoherent grumbles that fade into silence. She waits, letting him brood for a bit. When she decides it’s gone on long enough, Alice lets him in on a few thoughts she’s been having.

 

“In all your incarnations, during all of your adventures, with all your friends and companions, how many times have you told them to run or go or stay somewhere safe when the dangerous bits were happening?”

 

He shrugs. “Innumerable.”

 

Sardonic stare. “Try.”

 

“Six hundred twenty-six thousand, nine hundred fifty-two and a half.”

 

She blinks, and her mouth twitches a little. “Alright. Of those, how many times did they not listen?”

 

He opens his mouth, but she stops him.

 

“This part can just be mental. How many times have they ignored you, and how many of those times did the crisis turn out okay or better than okay because they did?”

 

She takes his hand, and he looks down at their twined fingers as she asks her next question.

 

“And of all the times they did listen, how much harder was it for you to go it alone? How hard did you wish even just a tiny bit that they’d stayed with you instead of leaving you alone again?

 

He’s silent.

 

“I ignore you because I care, idiot.”

 

There’s the smile.

 

“Now explain to me why exactly I have this sudden, intense craving for tacos.”

 

“Side effect of the blast you took. It’ll wear off in a few years. No worries, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even more thanks to the people who’ve made it to chapter four. Several more chapters on the way. Thanks again for reading, and please take just a little time to let me know what you’re thinking of the story so far.


	5. Chapter 5

5\. **_In which Rose says the right thing and Martha is brilliant_**.

 

Sometimes Alice has to remind him of who and what she is and who and what she isn’t.

 

Rose had this amazing ability to blurt out the most random “right things;” the Doctor would think of the solution, and that’s how they would save the world.

 

Rose said a lot of right things to him, and it’s hard to think about that sometimes, as well.

 

Of course, Alice has done this, too. In fact, on one trip, a large blue mushroom actually has the honor of this task and performs it admirably. Saves half the solar system from a supernova. But, according to the Doctor, no one can do this like Rose can.

 

Could.

 

And Martha was smart. Brilliant, according to the Doctor. So brilliant that she willingly left the Doctor because she knew it would break her heart to love a man who would always see something less than Rose whenever he looked at her.

 

Alice is not so brilliant; she knows this because she stays despite the comparisons, despite the mistakes she makes. She would like to say that she’s only staying for the Doctor’s own good, that he needs someone or he will be too lonely to function properly.

 

She also knows that she still isn’t fooling anyone.

 

The Doctor doesn’t ever say he is disappointed with her in those early days, but the surprise on his face when she doesn’t understand what he wants her to get is enough sometimes. Those days don’t last forever, but in the first few months, her heart and ego are not in very good shape.

 

On one planet he remarks that Rose would’ve already said the right thing and he’d have the answer by now. Alice nearly takes a swing at him, she really does. She refrains only because she knows he is stuck in his nine-hundred-year-old ways and can’t help it. He does try, though.

 

“How do you do it?” She asks one day.

 

“Do what?” He’s half under the console doing something with wires she could never possibly hope to understand. She’s not entirely sure he understands, either, but it’s his ship.

 

“How is it of all the people you’ve traveled with over the centuries, you always manage to find the perfect person or people for whatever situation you’re in?”

 

“How d’you mean?” His voice is a little muffled, so she slides off the railing where she’s perched and plops on the floor next to him.

 

“Hand me that…squiggly…zippy thing…no, the other one.”

 

Alice thinks about how she wants to put this as she hands him the requested tool.

 

“It seems to me, Doctor, that whenever you’re faced with some sort of strange problem or crisis—”

 

“You mean eight out of nine…no, hang on. Six out of seven days of the week?”

 

“Yes, that…somehow, out of the whole of space and time, the people you need to help you fix everything are right there.”

 

He finally emerges, suit wrinkled and green smudges streaking down his face. He grins.

 

“I guess my magnetic personality simply attracts the best of you.”

 

She doesn’t agree, though. “No, Doctor, you bring out the best in us.”

 

Alice does has her strengths, though. She learns that she can pick up on the weirdest of details, tiny random things that no normal person should ever notice.

 

“Can’t see the novel for all the words,” he says to her. She has missed yet another glaringly obvious detail yet has picked up a subtle hint that would’ve left his plans in shambles had it gone unnoticed.

 

“The Devil is in the details,” she reminds him.

 

“Met him once, did I tell you? Couple of times, actually.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve enjoyed so many of the Doctor’s companions, but one of the parts that always stuck with me was when he told Martha straight to her face that Rose would’ve said the magic words and he’d know exactly what to do. Now, I realize A) he’s still heavily grieving for Rose at that point; B) she really did have a knack for doing just that; and C) he is very much rude and not ginger in this particular incarnation…but the look of hurt on Martha’s face. You can just see that she carries this around with her for the entire rest of the time she’s traveling with the Doctor. As always, thanks so much for reading, and please take just a couple more minutes to leave some sort of comment. Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

6\. **_In which Alice tells the Doctor something and asks him something else_**.

 

Sometimes he looks at Alice, and she sees _the look_ on his face, in his eyes. She’s familiar enough with _the look_ ; she owns a mirror, after all.

 

What she tries so hard to understand is why he does nothing about it.

 

In a rare fit of candidness, the Doctor tells Alice that she can spend the rest of her life with him, but he can’t spend the rest of his life with her. She gets the feeling he’s said this to more than one person. She also has a feeling that her response might be a first for him.

 

“And?”

 

He blinks, then he stares, then he opens his mouth. Then he closes his mouth. He didn’t expect this, and he doesn’t know how to respond.

 

She is normally more sympathetic.

 

But the thing is, Alice has just poured her heart out to him, and this is the response she gets. So, by all the gods and otherwise of this existence and all other parallels of similar, he’s going to hear what she has to say about it.

 

“Whose feelings do you think you’re sparing here, exactly? Because they certainly aren’t mine.”

 

Again, he’s not expecting this.

 

“Here’s the thing, Doctor.” She takes a deep breath, knowing this might be the conversation that makes him finally leave her for good. As this is one of the last things she currently wants, she fervently hopes for the best.

 

He needs to hear this, and it’s not entirely for Alice’s sake; it’s for his, as well.

 

“You wait and you hold back from telling us humans how you really feel, but why? Is it to save our feelings? To save yours? To make things easier or less complicated? How has that worked out so far?”

 

He’s silent, waiting for her to go on.

 

“Was it any less complicated because you wouldn’t just let Martha down and tell her the truth? Did it turn out any better by not telling Rose how you felt all those times you had your chance?” She pushes on, seeing he’s about to protest.

 

“You died for her, regenerated into a whole new person almost tailor-made for her. You burned up a sun just to say good-bye, but you wouldn’t say those three little words.” Alice pauses, knowing she’s about to go too far.

 

“Admit it. You stalled on that beach, and you meant to do it. You knew time was coming up, and you could have said it. All that way you made her travel just to see you, and you could have started the conversation with it. But you wouldn’t just tell her the truth.”

 

Neither of them speaks for a very long three minutes. Alice is the one who breaks the silence.

 

“I don’t pretend to understand things that I don’t. I know you, but I don’t understand you. I don’t understand why you do or don’t do the things you choose. I know that I love you, and I know you hurt me sometimes, and I know that staying with you is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. And I’m so tired of dancing around the truth.”

 

His head snaps up, and there’s real fear in his eyes.

 

“You’re not leaving?”

 

She puts her fingers over his lips, the first time she’s touched them. She tries not to think about that.

 

“I am talking.” She says it gently, but the force is there.

 

He’s quiet, but the fear is still there, and she can’t stand doing that to him. Alice takes both his hands in hers, choosing her next words carefully.

 

Words have power, after all.

 

“With all the knowledge that I have right now, I cannot currently foresee any possible reason that I would willingly choose to leave you short of sacrificing myself to save you. Again.”

 

The words seem to have the weight of an oath, and she can feel a subtle but very real shift between them.

 

His eyes close, shoulders sagging as the tension drains out.

 

“But I will ask you this. What if something happened tomorrow and we were separated? Like what happened with Rose? What if there were no supernova to say good-bye? What if I died tomorrow? Would your life be any better simply because you never said it?”

 

There’s another long, silent three minutes. Even the TARDIS seems to hold its breath. He studies her face, and the corner of his mouth quirks.

 

“You’re having another taco craving just now, aren’t you?”

 

“If you were wrapped in a corn tortilla and smothered in taco sauce, I would be unstoppable.”

 

“Come along, then, Alice! How’d you like to see the creation of the first taco?”

 

“Yes, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : I swear, I’m not trying to start controversy with this. I do believe that the Doctor truly loves Rose; I’ve listened to the interviews with Russell T. Davies, Julie Gardner, David Tennant, etc. I know that he meant to say, “I love you.” But, dang it, if he meant it he had plenty of time. Three words takes a lot less than two minutes to say. According to what he knows at the time, this is the last time he will ever see the woman he loves. Why not start with it? Why not say it in every sentence? Sigh. For everyone who has made it this far, thank you so much for reading. Please take just a few more moments to review. Thanks.


	7. 7

7\. In which there is cardio and then there is flattery.

There’s a lot of running with the Doctor, and can he ever run. It’s like trying to keep up with a professional marathoner. 

“It’s like you’ve been doing this your whole lives,” Alice comments one day.

He is infinitely amused when Alice starts doing cardio on the TARDIS; she even stops in for the odd aerobics class on some of their longer layovers. The ones that aren’t fraught with peril, at least.

“I just don’t see as how you need it,” he says one day, perched on the metal railing next to the console. He watches as she completes her sets of crunches and moves on to jumping jacks.

“As flattering as that is (he grins), for one thing, I’ve decided I’m curvy enough for both of us. Not everyone can be as naturally model-thin as you.”

He wisely refrains from commenting.

“For another thing, I have to be able to move better in all these crisis situations. I am not losing another pair of shoes to a wave of slime or lava or whatever alien is chasing us at the time simply because I can’t outrun it. I don’t fancy having to borrow your trainers again.”

“To be fair, I don’t know many people who could outrun a wave of lava,” he says in what she’s sure he thinks of as a consoling manner. He’s quiet for a while as he watches her, then he apparently decides it’s time to do something else. He’s not very good at sitting still.

“By the way,” he says as he hops off the railing, “I never did compliment you on that splendid bit of barefoot running you did over that sharpened, heated salt-gravel.”

“It was that or be absorbed. Left me with some pretty exciting scars, too.”

“True…doesn’t make it any less impressive, though. Brilliant bit of running, that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It never makes any sense to me that once someone becomes the Doctor’s companion, they are automatically good at running. I know that the actors are in fairly good shape, but still…I’ve been in emergency situations, and even people who are in fairly good shape are not necessarily good at running. There’s stamina and coordination involved. Some of us out here in the world are naturally klutzes and have to work very hard to overcome that. It made sense to me that some of the Doctor’s companions would have to hone a few skills here and there, especially with someone so hyperactive and prone to spontaneous bursts of running.


	8. 8

8\. In which the Doctor falls in love and Alice slams him against a wall. 

For someone who won’t say three small words, the Doctor falls in love more often than one would think. More often than one would like, as well.

And by one, Alice means herself.

Finally, after a very tedious, dangerous, and infuriating interlude with the royal family of a particularly large and distant solar system (and said royal family’s grown daughter the Crown Princess), she corners him as soon as they’re back in the TARDIS.

“Now, look here, you!”

His eyes go wide at her tone, and even more so at her fists attached firmly to the lapels of his suit. He is thoroughly confused. She swears, for someone with infinite access to the mysteries of this universe and others, he is so dense sometimes.

She tells him as much. Now there’s even more confusion.

“You’ve slammed me against a wall to tell me I’m thick?”

“No, you idiot!” Deep breath. Calm.

“I do not have the zest and vitality that Rose had. I am not brilliant like Martha. I don’t have Captain Jack’s sense of humor, and I don’t have Sarah Jane’s sense of adventurous fortitude.”

His eyes darken at the mention of his former companions, but if there’s one thing the Doctor has learned about Alice, it’s to wait and let her make her point. It’s usually a good one.

“But I have two things. I have loyalty to a fault. I will never take anyone’s side against yours to the point of self-detriment. I will have your back in every conceivable and non-conceivable plot or eventuality.”

Her eyes narrow, her grip tightens, and she pulls him closer until her nose is almost touching his.

“And over the last couple of years, I have developed a rather impressive streak of possessiveness when it comes to you. Don’t ever expect me to sit idly by while you become engaged to some random galactic princess.”

Silence, then—

“How about intergalactic, then?”

“I just spent ten days trapped in the sewer system for a city that makes London look like a tiny hamlet, and the only way I was able to get the smell off was by going through a machine that physically peeled my skin from my body and then made me re-grow a new layer. Hair included.”

“I thought you’d done something different with it, it’s a lovely new color. I wanted to be a ginger this time around, have I told you that?”

Deep breath. Calm.

“And then, having had to disguise myself as a harem slave and nearly had to deal with all the responsibilities and…perks that come with that position, I finally find you not enslaved and locked up like I’d feared this whole time…No, you’re sitting pampered and pomped literally in the lap of luxury, snogging Her Royal Luxuriousness.”

“Is pomped even a word?”

Alice’s eyelid is twitching dangerously when the Doctor finally concedes her point. 

“Oh, alright then.” The Doctor lets out a huff, then raises his right hand and intones, “With the knowledge and experiences that I currently have right now, to the best of my abilities, I cannot conceive of another situation where I would get engaged in front of you again without your express consent.”

“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Fine, but you still promised, so don’t forget.” She releases him and plops to the floor of the console room, utterly exhausted.

“That was a brilliant bit of revolutionary work you did back there, by the way. Those peasants’ve got a lot to thank you for. Where’d you learn to throw a javelin like that?”

“Had a bit of training while you were playing Casanova with the alien princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven’t had the chance to watch Casanova, and you are a David Tennant fan, you are missing seriously missing out. It’s written by Russell T. Davies (yes, THAT Russell T.), and it is hilarious and heartbreaking and fabulous.


	9. 9

9\. In which the Doctor tries something and Alice puts her foot down.

And then there’s one of those inevitable times when they have to split up. Those moments always seem to pop up during the worst of situations, so of course, emotions are running high.

There’s five minutes until the end of the world, and all she wants to do is hold him, feel his heartbeats, tell him again that she loves him and finally hear it in return.

So when he moves to kiss her properly, for the first time ever, Alice pushes him away. The shock in his eyes is more than she can stand, but he’s the Doctor, and she is the Doctor’s companion. So she sucks it up and deals.

“No. Not right now. Not here. And not like this.”

“But—”

“No.” Alice Standing Firm at the End of the World; it sounds like some sort of painting or maudlin poem. They have less than two minutes before they have to part, maybe for the last time ever (doesn’t it always feel like that, though?), and she’s pushing him away. Talk about the stuff of poetry.

He starts to say something, but she cuts him off.

“When this is over, do it then. Kiss me properly and mean it. Don’t do it because you think it’ll be the last time.”

“Whatever happened to saving the best for last?”

She grins, shoving him in the direction he needs to go.

“Nice try, Doctor. How’s this: If you’re going to kiss me, do it at the start of something, not the end.”

The look he throws Alice over his shoulder is pure conflagration that sears her far worse than she thinks the lava might do that’s threatening to consume this miserable, forsaken mining planet.

“Oh, yes,” he breathes, and the words are spoken in a single breath: one phrase, one promise, one oath. And then they part, and she doesn’t see him again until the dust has settled.

She can tell right away that their moment has passed. Alice can see the embers glowing faintly behind his eyes, but the fire is gone with the averted disaster, and she’s left waiting for another crisis to stoke it back up.

He flings his arms around her, same as ever, and she can feel that thin layer of control he wears like armor. She smiles through the sinking of her heart, shoving aside the knowledge that she willingly pushed him away, that this distance is her fault now.

He knows what she’s thinking, he usually does, and his smile reflects her remorse.

“We’ll get another chance, yeah?”

“Couple of cowards, we are. Save the world countless times, but we can’t even…”

Sigh.

“I know. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to DeDe324, a very talented writer and loyal Fanfiction friend. Without her, I’d probably have stopped posting this story after a couple of chapters and might have even removed it by now. Thank you, D. Everyone else, if you’ve read this far, please take just a couple of moments to review and let me know what you think.


	10. 10

10\. In which things are discussed and nothing is resolved.

They have the very rare serious chat about once every six months or so, usually after some particularly depressing averted disaster.

This month’s topic is inner reflection, which Alice find rather humorous, as their last discussion was on the merits and disadvantages of having a religion that promotes belief in afterlife, especially when reaching said afterlife involves ceremonies requiring copious amounts of fresh fruit.

Cover everything, the two of them.

“I don’t care what someone said to you once, you aren’t a monster. It’s not like—”

“But I have been, though. You don’t know, you haven’t seen, you just…you don’t know all the things I’ve done. I hurt people; I destroy them, or near enough to it. Entire races, planets, I’ve…” His eyes are on the ground, corners of his mouth firmly turned down. 

Even his hair is drooping a little.

“And you’ve shown me on countless worlds that monsters can evolve, can change to something better. I’ve seen you help people that anyone else would consider monsters to become something better than even they could have hoped to be. I’ve seen you literally help new worlds form from nearly nothing.”

There’s a pause, and she knows he wants to say something, but he’s holding back. So she waits.

Finally—

“So, how would you describe me, then?”

No hesitation, absolutely no question about it.

“Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff. A big ball of it. Well, a tall, skinny ball of it.”

“Now, stop that, I’m actually being serious for once. Well, mostly.”

Alice chooses her words carefully. She is living with him, after all. He has a right to know what she thinks of him, but she doesn’t want to actually hurt his feelings when he’s finally making an attempt to be open.

“Ominous. Inevitable. You are the thing that will always happen, will always be there. You are…you’re what everyone dreads and looks forward to all at once. For most people, you’re a light-bringer. For others…what did you call it? ‘The Oncoming Storm’? I think that sums you up.”

“Yes, but…how do you see me?”

This question treads on a little more dangerous ground. He knows how she feels, she’s said it often enough, but they seem to avoid that conversation rather adamantly outside the heat of battle.

“You…will do what you believe is right at the cost of yourself. You will give people, creatures, a chance to do the right thing, even if they don’t necessarily deserve it.”

She’s not done yet, but there’s a pause as Alice groups her thoughts into coherency. She wants very badly to avoid the area of hero worship, as that’s bound to make him uncomfortable; they both know he’s not perfect, and she doesn’t want him to think she’s idealized him.

“I think part of the reason you do that is you hope someday someone will do it for you. You carry the weight of the universe on your shoulders, and you don’t want anyone to have to share it with you, though you wish they would.”

“Anything else?” She can tell the conversation is getting a bit too introspective for him, and he doesn’t much feel like sharing feelings anymore. He’s visibly fidgeting, obviously itching to do something a bit more active.

“You’re a horrible cook, your trainers are in desperate need of a wash, and you are hopeless when you’re alone, you can’t even dress yourself properly. Oh, and you have the weirdest taste in fruit; why would you ever pick a banana over a pear?”

“So, you’re saying the pity party is over?”

“Oui, Captain! The journey, she is awaiting us!”

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a few minutes to go over your skeletons, Alice?”

“My skeletons are dusty and contented in their bone closet, thank you very much.”

He jumps to his feet, the animated giddiness returning as he lunges for the controls.

“Where to this time, ensign?”

“Surprise me.”

He always does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve been keeping up with this story at all, I’ve changed up the first chapter just a bit. Not too much, but I’ve added a little bit to Alice’s character. I realize how little I actually describe her, and while that is intentional, I felt she deserved a better introduction. As always, please take a moment to share a few thoughts. Thanks for reading!


	11. 11

11\. In which the Doctor tastes things and Alice gets pinned to a tree.

Alice is very glad she has a strong stomach. Even so, she's come fairly close to ejecting its contents on a couple of occasions.

"What?" the Doctor snaps as she stares at him, a horrified expression on her face.

"You…you don't even know what that is, and you just…how could you…Why would you do that?"

"I'll have you know that tasting is a perfectly valid method of collecting data and is used by thousands of creatures across the galaxy."

Alice's expression is a battleground between nausea and amusement.

"So, you're comparing your investigatory skills to snakes and lizards now?"

He glances up at her, an indignant retort ready on his lips before he realizes she's only winding him up.

"How else would you propose we find out if the chemicals in this substance are the ones causing the hallucinations?"

"Take them back to the TARDIS and test them like we usually do?"

"Nah." He stands, unfolding his lean frame from where he's been crouching. He dusts his hands off, and Alice is very careful not to be caught staring when he stretches. "Takes too long. Besides, it's definitely the stuff we're looking for."

"How do you know?"

"Well, for one thing, it's made up of several specific chemicals in combinations that are known to adversely affect sensory receptors in the brain. All of them, actually, all seven senses."

"You mean five senses?"

"Nope. Third, no wait…second, this substance seems to be the excretion of the Cranzent species native to this region of Rellator, a group of predators known to drug their prey and stalk them until incapacitation from the effects of the drugs takes hold."

Alice is getting nervous now and glances over her shoulder, fully expecting to see something horrible burst through the trees at any moment.

"And finally, C. The main reason I know this is the cause of the hallucinations." He falls silent, squinting hard at Alice as if he's trying to decide something.

She's moving from nervous to scared now. "What, Doctor? Why are you staring at me? What's C?"

"Well, Alice, unless you've simply failed to mention some spectacularly peculiar family history up until this point, I have to hope very fervently that I am hallucinating because you are currently morphing into a tree. And as you haven't exhibited this tendency in the past, I have to assume it's a new habit of yours, one I'm not sure I'd like you to keep."

Alice sighs. "Other side effects?"

"Let's see…dizziness, giddiness, talkativeness, spontaneity, hyperactivity, distractibility—"

She cuts him off. "Any side effects you don't already suffer from? Any serious, adverse side effects? How long will this last?"

He's still staring at her, a peculiar expression on his face that she can't place.

"It'll wear off soon-ish, I should think, no permanent side effects, but I'm going to be quite tipsy for a bit. I think, though," he adds, an enthusiastic grin spreading across his face as he shoves his hands in his trouser pockets, rocking forward and back on the balls of his feet, "it might affect Time Lords a little more strongly than the native population. This is quite fascinating, really."

Alice sighs. "And you still feel justified in tasting strange substances, do you?"

"Why, yes, Alice Tree, I do." He seems shocked at her stifling attitude. "For one thing, I haven't had this good of a trip since the 1960s. Now, if you'd be so kind as to lead me back to the TARDIS, I can't quite trust my navigational skills at the moment."

It's a long, tense walk back through the forest that's made all the more ominous by the Doctor alternating among staring bouts at Alice, giggling fits, and forays into exploring this "brilliant new way of looking at things" that he's discovered.

Alice learns quickly not to ask him what's so funny, as his answers travel the spectrum from ridiculous to worrisome. He's seeing all sorts of things in the forest that she knows (hopes) aren't there, expounding at length on the history, anatomy, dichotomy, pretty much any –omy or -ory he can think of.

The main problem is, she doesn't know if any of those things are really there or not. So she keeps him going.

Unfortunately, the Doctor is continually distracted by anything he finds interesting, which is currently everything. After an hour of this (how did they ever get this far from the TARDIS?) Alice realizes that not only are they being followed but also that their pursuers are catching up.

"Doctor, I need you to focus. I know everything is very interesting, but the Cranzent are catching up, and I don't think I can handle them on my own."

"No worries, Alice Tree, you have me. Hey, that rhymed!"

She growls in frustration, but cuts herself off mid-sound when her eye catches four…five…six…seven hulking forms lurking a few hundred yards away through the trees.

Suddenly something white whizzes through the air past their heads and splats on a nearby tree with a squelchy, thunking sort of noise. The Doctor bounds over to investigate.

Alice lunges for him, wanting to keep him from tasting anything else, when another white gob whistles past her and splats against her wrist. The force propels her into the tree, knocking her dizzy for a moment. She recovers quickly enough, shaking her head to clear it, but her wrist is pinned to the trunk and stuck fast by the white gunk.

"Doctor!" Even in his inebriated state, he immediately responds to the panic in her voice.

"Alice Tree, what's happened? Why've you tied your branches 'round this other tree?"

Her free hand shoots out, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him close.

"Doctor, I know this is difficult for you right now." She ducks as best she can, pulling him out of the way as a barrage of globs stream past them. She can hear the Cranzent making horrible chittering and clicking noises as they crash through the trees. And now her wrist is burning.

"Doctor, you have to focus. You have to get back to the TARDIS. I can distract them long enough for you to get back, and you can detox there. Then you can get back to the villagers and warn them about what's been drugging and stealing their people."

Alice tries in vain to jerk her wrist free, but the white substance has reached the consistency and texture of hardened concrete, and the burning is getting worse.

The Doctor is staring at her again, that same strange look he's been giving her, but this time it's mixed with just a tinge of helplessness. She knows it's just the toxins. She grits her teeth against the pain and shoves him away.

"Doctor, you have to go now! Straight through the trees that way, don't turn! Just go!"

"Alice Tree, I—"

"GO!"

She's fighting the pull of desperate fear that's threatening to overtake her reasoning skills as she watches the Doctor sprint off in the direction she indicated. She knows she's done the right thing by making him leave. He's safe now, and he can help the village. All she has to do is distract seven large predators.

She sadly suspects there's only one way she can really do this now, as she can't remove herself from the tree.

She drops as low as her trapped wrist will allow and squashes herself as flat as she can between two enormous roots. The Cranzent are much closer now, and their chittering drives strange little bolts of nauseous fear up and down Alice's spine that pair well with the burning sensation radiating up her arm from the wrist.

She can just make out huge, shadowy spider-like forms through the trees, and they are far too close for her comfort. They've stopped spitting, though, so that's a relief; it's the only one she has right now, aside from knowing she's gotten the Doctor out of this horrid situation.

The unmistakable sound of the sonic screwdriver bursts to life just above her head. She whips around and finds the Doctor adjusting settings then resuming his sonic assault on her organic shackle.

"If it's hard as rock, it can shatter like rock," he reasons calmly, as if seven enormous, stalking spider-creatures are not about to burst forth and consume both of them.

"Did I ever mention that a Time Lord's metabolism tends to process chemicals faster than a human's?"

Any response she might make is cut off as two things happen simultaneously: several Cranzent erupt from the trees less than a hundred yards away and closing; and the cement-like acidic white matter bursts into powder around Alice. The Doctor jerks her to her feet, and she sees stars as blinding pain shoots straight up her arm. She can't hold back the hoarse moan that escapes her, but she is (barely) able to keep up with the Doctor as they run from their pursuers. She feels justified in her continued cardio routines at this point, and rightly so.

There is no discussion as they run, only dodging and breathing and holding on. Alice isn't doing so brilliantly with that part right now, but she is trying. Only she's just so tired.

The TARDIS looms out of nowhere, and then the doors are closing behind them, and the Doctor is throwing switches and adjusting levers. Alice is thrown to the floor as the TARDIS lurches, making a rather dramatic escape from the Cranzent.  
She opts to stay behind while he delivers the results of their investigation to the villagers as well as some stern warnings of being more observant of the indigenous wildlife before selecting new colonization sites.

She is sprawled on the floor, half-propped on the console and half-conscious when he returns. She wasn't this bad when he left, she's just gotten so much more tired. And her arm hurts, but it's been like that forever; at least, it feels like it has.

He is apparently upset, but she personally feels she's done well just to stay awake, and she tells him so.

"I'm not upset with you, Alice! Okay, that's a lie. I'm not pleased you didn't say anything before I left, but I should have taken better care of you in the first place."

She doesn't have anything to say to this, as the console room has become rather foggy and gray at the moment.

"Alice, stay with me!"

No, thank you, though. It's just that she's so tired now, and she's planning on taking a short nap. Only, her arm still hurts, it's like a growing fire, really, and—

"Alice! You have to help me just a little, here!"

Alice doesn't understand why he's so upset; they've solved the mystery, they made it back home, and all she wants is some ice for her arm and a nice, short…okay, long sleep.

The jolt when the Doctor lifts her arm to examine it is enough to snap her right out of her stupor, and the blow she delivers with her good arm is enough to stagger him back a few paces.

"There you are! 'Fraid I was losing you for a second! I need you to stay conscious long enough for me to run analysis on what that white gunk is doing to you so I can neutralize it and reverse the effects."

She winces at his elevated, audible enthusiasm. "You aren't going to lick my wrist, are you?"

He glances at her, a sparkle of mischief gleaming in his eyes. "Only if you want me to."

"Maybe when it's not on fire."

"Fair enough."

Hours pass for Alice over the next few minutes while the Doctor analyzes, computes, concocts, and whatever else he's doing. It would probably go faster except he has to stop what he's doing every now and then to keep her awake.

He doesn't complain about his growing collection of bruises.

He finally returns to her with both a cream and an injection. She is grateful for both, though she enjoys neither. The shot is fantastically painful, while the cream…Well…

"Does it really have to smell of bananas?"

"I'd think you'd be a bit more grateful that I just saved your life and your arm."

She doesn't say aloud that his less-than-sensible investigatory methods are partially to blame for this new addition to her growing collection of scars, but it hangs in the air between them as he massages the ointment into her mangled wrist.

"I'm so sorry I dragged you through that."

She shakes her head, reveling in his touch and the relief spreading outwards from the cream.

"I'm not upset that I had to save you, Doctor, I'm glad I was there to do it. It's only…could you maybe consider a new way to field-analyze chemicals? A portable machine or something? Like your Timey Wimey Detector?"

He considers this proposal, and his eyes light up. "It can go ding, as well!"

She smiles. "How else would we know when there's stuff?"

They're all set to leave when a question occurs to Alice. "Doctor, when you were hallucinating, you said I morphed into a tree. Then you kept giving me these weird looks. What kind of tree was I, exactly?"

He glances at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Er…an Alice Tree. New species, unique. Endangered, really, since it tends to spend so much time sacrificing itself to save others."

She knows that evasive look. "Doctor…"

"Oh, alright! You were a blasted pear tree, Alice! Why? Why pears? I'll never understand!"

She's taken aback and a little hurt by this outburst.

"So, your hallucinations…mental projections, were they? Showing how you feel subconsciously about things? Projecting your fears and such?"

He turns and closes the distance between them. He grasps her shoulders and leans in, planting a soft kiss to her forehead. Then he forces her to look him right in the eyes.

"Alice, you turned into a pear tree, the most loathsome of arboreal organisms in existence, and I followed you into the breach. I put my life into the hands of the foulest fruit tree in existence because it was you, and I trust you no matter what form you're in at the time."

He pulls her roughly against him in a sudden, tight embrace.

"Stupid girl, I trust you with my existence. That's what that should tell you."

The hug ends a short time later, and the Doctor returns to the console.

"Where to this time?"

"Nowhere with anything even remotely resembling giant bugs or spiders, thank you."

"Alice, you never told me you were afraid of bugs."

"I'm not. Leastways, none that I can crush with my shoe or a cricket bat. It's the ones the size of small houses, though. I have to draw the line somewhere, Doctor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit different from the others, as it's the most action we've seen so far. I really enjoyed writing this one for some reason. As always, if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading. Please take just a couple of moments and review.


	12. 12

12\. In which Alice begs and the Doctor finally gives in.

“Please, Doctor, you’re being silly. Why can’t we? Why won’t you let me?”

He sighs, his back to Alice as he tinkers with the endless levers and switches that adorn the console.

“Alice, why? Why are you so keen on this? Do you really feel it’s necessary?”

“That’s a bit clinical, isn’t it, Doctor? What in life is actually a necessity besides food and shelter? I don’t think it’s necessary, no, but it certainly would be…enjoyable, I think.”

“For me or for you?” he mutters, a strangely apprehensive look on his face.

She studies his back as he moves around the console, refusing to look at her. He’s tense, shoulders rigid as if he’s waiting for something to attack him. Then a realization hits her out of nowhere.

“I’m not the first to ask this, I can’t have been. You’re worried because you know you’ll like it…you’ve done this before, haven’t you?” She feels slow. He’s admitted to several hundred years of existence. Of course he’s done this before; she’d be a fool to think otherwise.

He scoffs, an unexpected and extremely undignified sound.

“You have altogether too much imagination, Alice.”

She knows she’s on to something now.

“You’ve shown me recordings and things of your previous selves, Doctor, you and your companions. You can’t tell me this has never come up. Take your Fourth, for example. There’s absolutely no way he didn’t enjoy it. All you have to do is look at him, and you can tell.”

He finally faces her, his eyebrows furrowed in consternation. The corners of his mouth are titled firmly down in his trademark frown.

“It’s just…a very close…personal sort of contact, Alice, one I haven’t enjoyed in a very long time.”

She pounces on this bit of information. “So, you do enjoy it then.”

He raises one eyebrow, effectively silencing her, but her triumphant smile remains.

“Yes. A long time ago, in a very different life, I did enjoy it. But I’ve changed several times since then, literally, and I am not that person anymore. I’m just not sure…I don’t know how I’d react.”

“I really think you’re making too big of a deal out of this,” she chides gently. “It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me.”

“Well,” he drawls, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets, “I could name you two dozen separate cultures from this galaxy alone that would disagree with you there.”

She flashes him her most sardonic look. “Are you a member of one of those cultures? Am I?”

He grins and starts to answer, but she cuts him off. “Natural born members, Doctor, not honorary or naturalized citizens or similar.”

His grin falls. “Fine, then. If you’re going to be overly picky, then no. We’re not.”

She sees he’s going to continue his unreasonably resistant streak, so she’s tries a more compromising approach. She’s wanted to do this rather desperately for some time, and she’s not giving up any time soon.

“Why don’t you let me start, and if you don’t like it, I’ll stop. I won’t ask you again; at least, not for a long time.”

A ghost of a smile flickers across his face. “Very equitable of you, Alice.”

“I like to think I can be reasonable on occasion.”

“A very rare occasion.” He sighs. “I can’t get out of this, can I?”

“Nope.”

“You’re really enjoying how uncomfortable I am, aren’t you?”

“A bit, yeah.”

He eyes her warily but seems to come to some sort of internal decision. He drops heavily onto the seat next to her, arms folded defensively across his chest, scowling. Her elation deflates a little, and her resolve weakens.

“Doctor, I’m not trying to force you into something you don’t want. I just…I thought it would be nice, and I’m really sorry if…” She trails off, at a loss for words. There’s a small but sharp tug in her chest.

He glances at her crestfallen face, and his expression softens. He reaches over and gathers her tightly to him.

“Oh, Alice, it’s fine. I’m just having one of those grumpy, older-than-dirt moments.”

This distracts her momentarily. “You really are older than a lot of dirt, aren’t you?”

His grin returns. “Way to flatter a man into submission, that is. Complimenting my age like that will get you everywhere.”

She hesitantly returns his smile. “So…can I? Can we? Please?”

He releases her, bowing his head to the inevitable. “Oh, alright. Go on, then.”

She reaches out tentatively, unsure of the reaction she’ll get, and slowly runs her fingers though the ends of his hair. When the Doctor doesn’t explode or smack her hands away, she allows herself a little boldness and rests her fingers lightly on his scalp, gently running them all the way back through his hair from his forehead to the nape of his neck.

She can’t stop the grin that spreads across her face at the heavenly, silky feeling of the strands slipping between her fingers.

“This is gorgeous,” she murmurs. “I could do this all day and never get tired of it.”

“Then what kind of adventures would we have, Alice?”

She doesn’t stop her exploration, simply answering through her vague haze of excitement. “Hair-raising ones, I suppose.”

She can hear a faint laugh when he replies. “Oh, Alice, that was either horrifically wonderful or wonderfully horrific, I can’t decide which.”

They’re quiet for a while, both reveling in the simple joy of touch and contact. As usual, the air between them is quietly charged, though they both know neither will do anything serious about it. Eventually, the Doctor straightens, and Alice rests her hands in her laps.

Her fingertips are tingling.

“So,” she says, feigning a carefree tone as she takes a stranglehold on her emotions, “was it as bad as you thought it would be?”

His smile is a little sad as he takes her hand, twining his fingers with hers.

“No, Alice. It was just as perfect as I was afraid it would be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by a YouTube video I saw a few years ago. David Tennant is the guest on a talk show, and the hosts call on an audience member. She asks if she can “ruffle" his hair. David Tennant, being the apparently nice guy that he is, allows this. Now…if you’re a fan and have a bit of a fan-crush of Mr. Tennant, you have to admit you’ve pictured it. The man’s got awesome hair.


	13. 13

13\. In which Alice is left on a beach and the Doctor forgets something rather important.

As the countdown closes in on six hours and twenty-five minutes, she actually begins to worry. At one past their agreed-upon time, Alice considers going into full-blown panic mode. As she’s currently marooned on a lovely, jungle-encrusted beach a thousand years or so from any time she’s ever known, however, there’s really not much she can do at the moment.

So she waits. She feels like she’s been doing that a lot recently. After all, when is the Doctor ever on time, really?

It’s not until sunrise the next day that Alice hears the tell-tale sounds of the TARDIS rematerializing a few yards down the beach. Her arms are crossed against the chill early-morning air, and she’s stiff from sitting in the sand all night. She doesn’t bother getting up as he approaches.

Of course, her legs are numb, so it’s really more that she’s trying to preserve the ounce or so of dignity she has left.

“Brisk this morning, isn’t it?” He grins, wrapped snuggly in his long coat.

“Please explain to me,” Alice begins slowly, her voice heavy with warning, “how exactly it is that you can manage to be late so very often when you literally live in a time machine? Are you or are you not supposed to be a Lord of Time and Space and all that rubbish?”

His smile falters, and she thinks he’s only just realizing how long he’s left her here when he was only supposed to “pop out for just a mo’.”

“Well, it’s not an exact science, this.” He’s grasping at straws, and he knows it.

She sighs, too tired and hungry to work up a proper temper. “Isn’t that exactly what it’s supposed to be?”

“You try flying a six-person spacecraft with just one person and see how accurate you can get…Besides, you’re fine! Look at you! Camping out, all rugged! Builds character.”

She knows she’ll get nowhere with him while he’s in such a good mood.

“Can you come over here, then, and help my character get some feeling back into its legs?”

He reaches her in a few easy strides and lifts her right off the sand, holding Alice until she’s steady on her feet. He grins, and she can’t help smiling and returning his oh-so-warm embrace. 

“I do apologize; I suppose I overshot the landing a bit on that one. Won’t happen again.”

Right…

The sunrise reflects brilliantly off the windows of the TARDIS as they make their way back across the beach.

“Did you at least get what you went after in the first place?” She asks as her stomach does an anticipatory rumba at the thought of the promised food.

“Woops.”

“You’re kidding me.” She can practically feel her stomach begin weeping as the one hope she’d been holding out for this trip not being a total flop withers and dies in the morning sun. The foodless morning sun. This was supposed to be a relaxing three-day camping trip on the beach, just the two of them with no monsters, no disasters, no issues. And apparently no food.

“Well,” he says, holding the door open for Alice and standing back, “I got distracted. I really am sorry.”

“Seriously, if you don’t find me some food in the next five minutes, you’re next on the menu.”

“Would you like me with or without taco sauce?”

“Oh, Doctor,” she sighs. “I do believe you are quite saucy enough on your own.”

“Wonderfully horrible, Alice. Absolutely horribly wonderful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve found the Doctor doesn’t tend to arrive when he says he will. Almost ever, really. Although, I suppose that could be a case of the TARDIS taking him when he needs to be, not when he wants to be.


	14. 14

14\. In which Alice surprises the Doctor and he returns the favor.

There's very few times Alice has ever left the Doctor speechless. He's a man of many words (many, many words) who loves to hear himself talk and explain, and it's difficult to stop him talking sometimes. She often thinks he'd make a fine professor if he could ever settle down long enough to make it through a full semester.

Maybe a guest lecturer, then.

He's decided they should go to a fancy dress party, costumes and all. He's even decided to forego his perpetual pinstripes for a full tuxedo and cape combo complete with a white mask that covers the right half of his face from hairline to just above his lips. His trainers are a cheerful red that match the inside of his cape and the single rose he is carrying.

She makes him wait anxiously in the console room for a few extra minutes, although she is ready quite quickly, all considering. It's not often she gets to surprise him, and she wants to fully enjoy the moment.

She steps quietly out onto the landing and sweeps elegantly if cautiously down the steps until she's only a few feet behind him. He's standing at the open TARDIS doors and looking out over the torch-lit grounds as the sounds of music and laughter drift in around him.

She clears her throat. He pivots dramatically, making his cape fly out around him as he turns. He's grinning, waiting for her response to his costume. Then he stops. Then he stares.

Silence, just long enough to start the first fidgets of fretfulness tickling down her back. Then…

"Oh, Alice, you are breathtaking." Sometimes, out of all those words he's full of, he manages to pick just the right ones.

Several days worth of searching through the wardrobe has rewarded her with a beautifully embroidered, champagne colored Edwardian evening dress (*see author's note*), and she has an interesting time getting into both corset and dress by herself, though she manages both in the end.

He's silent again, so apparently she's done a good job.

The Doctor gazes at her, an unreadable expression on his face. It's Alice who finally breaks the silence.

"I chose this dress on purpose. I didn't want to remind you of anyone tonight, you see. I wanted you to enjoy yourself and not have to relive old regrets and heartaches."

The smile he gives her as he holds his hand out is a mixture of so many emotions she can't begin to sort them. When she reaches his side, he carefully tucks the rose into the simple chignon she's twisted her hair into.

"The only person I plan to remember tonight is my Alice." He pauses, then pats hit coat absentmindedly before delving into his pockets. "Hang on, I have something else for you."

She waits patiently while he searches valiantly through his plethora of pockets; she's fairly certain they're all bigger on the inside, so there's no telling how much he has to search through to find what he wants. His hand finally emerges triumphantly from one of the inside pockets clutching a simple gold cuff bracelet with a rather…well, alien design etched into the metal.

Her breath catches. Surely it isn't real…She almost tells him it's too much, but as he slips the cuff over the scar on her wrist, she sees the tiny spasm of pain that flickers through his eyes.

Alice decides that the bracelet is the perfect accessory to her outfit.

"I picked this up on Platform Sixteen when we stopped over last week. I actually got you one in silver as well, wasn't sure which would match your outfit better tonight since you wouldn't tell me what you were wearing."

It's not the first bracelet he's bought her since the incident with the Cranzent. She knows he still feels guilty about the scar on her wrist, and it's become habit now for him to stop in at some little shop on wherever they go and see if they have a cuff of some sort that catches either of their interest.

It pains him to look at the scar, so she lets him cover it up. He has enough reminders of past mistakes.

Swallowing hard to keep her voice from cracking, she smiles and takes his proffered arm, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. Together they step out of the TARDIS and onto the intensely manicured lawn.

"I did make a couple of alterations to the original costume," she confides.

"Oh? What's that, then?"

"First of all, pockets, of course. Second, I left the bloody corset loose enough so I can breathe properly. Well, mostly. The dress was just large enough, so I thought it'd be a good idea."

She tugs him to a stop and lifts the hem of her dress a little higher than where she's already holding it for practicality's sake. Instead of elegant heels or dancing slippers, matching champagne-colored trainers peek out from the skirt of her gown.

She laughs at his delighted expression.

"Knowing the two of us, Doctor, something will give us cause to run, and I wanted to be sure I was ready."

"A brilliant assumption, Alice, and I applaud your preparedness thoroughly. Shall we?"

The garden becomes more and more elaborately decorated the closer they get to the manor house. They blend perfectly with the crowd, especially as no one is looking at anyone's feet. Alice sees people dressed as everything from Cleopatra to Henry VIII to Marie Antoinette.

She feels him stiffen next to her, and she glances in the direction he's looking. Though Alice has taken great pains to choose a costume that won't evoke any personal memories for the Doctor, other people have not had the foresight to do so.

Honestly, there's no way they could have, and Alice doesn't blame them since she and the Doctor weren't technically invited to this particular affair. She stifles an annoyed sigh all the same as she takes in a rather resplendent and accurately done-up Madame de Pompadour.

She was afraid this would happen.

She clutches his arm a little tighter and stands on her toes to whisper in his ear, "It's not her, Doctor."

He's not listening, though. He's lost deep in the memory of a woman he knew for all of three hours and still managed to love.

Alice isn't sure what to do, as the Doctor doesn't come with an instruction manual for these types of situations. She knows she needs to distract him, do something so unexpected it will not only draw his attention away and get him out of this mood but also make him forget he was in it in the first place.

She hits upon a rather desperate idea, one she doesn't know if she has the courage to pull off. A second glance at the Doctor's forlorn expression, however, tells her this is probably her only chance to save the evening.

Before she can lose her nerve, she reaches up, pulls his face down to hers, and kisses him soundly on the lips. There are some nearby indulgent chuckles at her semi-indecent public display of affection, but she is absolutely and irrevocably lost in the moment. A tiny, barely-coherent cell in the farthest corner of her brain registers that at least the kiss has achieved the desired effect of also confusing, and thus distracting, the Doctor.

After a long, glorious moment, she finally pulls away. If she weren't so light-headed, she might have to laugh at the look of absolute mystification on the Doctor's face.

"I…you…well, um…Sorry, Alice, what were you saying?" His expression changes to one of sudden realization and indignation in the blink of an eye. "Hang on, you cheated! You specifically said! About the kissing! The rule! That was you, you know!"

She affects a stern visage, complete with reproachful frown. "I said that if you are going to kiss me, do it at the start of something, not the end. I believe this is the beginning of a lovely evening where almost anything might happen. Don't you agree, Doctor?"

She's bluffing, putting on an absolute show of confidence that she absolutely does not feel. She hopes very much that it's fooling him, but decides to change tactics before he has a chance to crack her façade.

"Which first, Doctor, eating or dancing?"

He's so distractible.

"Ooo, that's a tough one. I do love nibbles, but it's been ages since I've danced properly at a fancy dress ball."

"How about one dance, then a round of nibbles?" Alice offers diplomatically. She's quite nervous (okay, terrified) about the dancing bit; she's only had a few lessons when she was (much) younger, but the Doctor is so excited she can't refuse him.

He leads her to a less crowded section of the huge dancing floor, quite a feat as there are several hundred people in attendance tonight. He places his hand at the small of her back, pulling her firmly against him. Her face heats at this close proximity.

"I don't quiet remember ballroom dancing being so…close-contact," she mumbles self-consciously. She steals a glance at his face as he places her free hand on his shoulder.  
"Yes, well, nine-year-old boys and girls aren't quite as inclined to touch each other and tend to hold hands while standing as far apart as possible during those lessons, don't they?"

From the wicked gleam in his eyes, she suspects he has seen straight through her show of bravado from a few moments ago, and from the smile spreading across his face as he pulls her just a smidgen closer, Alice knows that he may have decided to take the piss out of her just a bit.  
Her breath catches in her throat as he leans closer, his mouth only a couple of inches from her ear. His warm breath washes over her nearly-bare shoulder, sending shivers down her spine, and she knows she can't keep him from feeling her tremors.

"Allons-y, my Alice," he whispers, and he sweeps her off into a far more graceful waltz than she knew herself to be capable of.

When the dance finally ends, she is breathlessly dizzy and ecstatic. She's also very grateful he hasn't completely released her arm yet, as her knees have rather lost their resolve to support her.

"Are you sure you don't want to go for another spin?"

She's not sure she can handle such close proximity with the Doctor again; at least, not yet. Not without doing something (else) drastic, that is.

"I think refreshments might be in order, Sir."

"As the Lady wishes."

As the Doctor leads Alice through the glittering throng, he points out the nationalities and planets of origin of many of the attendees based solely on their choice of costume.

"The Kinsornian representatives tend to favor Egyptian styles. Apparently, they visited once a while back and liked what they saw. Been imitating it ever since."

He waxes on about several more partygoers before pausing to take a breath. He glances at his companion, taking in her flushed cheeks and wide, excited eyes.

"Y'know, Alice, I should take you out more often. I think you're quite suited to this sort of thing."

"Only if I can get out of this stupid corset first," she replies without thinking. She's partially distracted by some large, swaying potted plants on the far side of the large room. They almost seem to be dancing. Should they be doing that? Alice wonders if plants dance on this planet.

"I believe I could help you with that," the Doctor murmurs, his eyes still locked on her.

"What?" She hasn't heard him properly, her attention diverted, and now she's afraid she's been rude. She wrenches her attention back to him, unfortunately immediately forgetting the plants.

"Nothing. Would you like to start with appetizers, dinner, or dessert?"

The Doctor personally chooses to skip dinner altogether, preferring to alternate between appetizers and desserts. Alice finds this highly amusing, and he feels the need to defend his preferences.

"I love nibbles. There's so much variety, and you almost never need a fork. And you can't skip dessert, you end up missing most of banana dishes that way. Dinner's just a waste of time if you've got an alternative."

It's difficult to argue with that sort of logic.

He convinces Alice they should try another round of dancing. She's finally begun to relax a little, even with the Doctor pressed too closely against her, and she takes the opportunity to really look about as they revolve around the room.

Oh, dear. She knew she forgot something.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Alice?"

"I learned a long time ago that when I'm with you, it's best to be wrong and seem paranoid than to keep quiet and regret it later."

"Quite right," he agrees.

"So…forgive me if this is silly, but weren't there less than half that many dancing…swaying sort of plants before we went for refreshments?"

His steps never falter, his expression never changes behind the half-mask, but his grip on her waist tightens just a little. He leans forward and murmurs in her ear.

"Care to investigate a little more closely?" He alters his lead, steering the pair of them toward the nearest swaying shrub.

"Are they supposed to do that?" She's not sure why she's whispering, only she has a sneaking suspicion that if the plants can dance, who's to say they can't hear, as well? People are always rabbiting on about regular, everyday Earth plants responding to sound stimulus; it seems only logical to assume future-based, alien plant forms are more than capable of simply listening.

The song ends, and Alice turns to applaud the musicians, blocking most everyone's view of the Doctor as he leans over to examine the potted ballerina.

She hopes he doesn't decide to lick it; she absent-mindedly runs a finger over the gold cuff on her wrist.

The doctor pulls out his sonic screwdriver and quickly scans the plant in front of him. As soon as he switches the device on, the plants freezes, then starts to vibrate, along with every plant within hearing distance.

"That's not good," he mutters, quickly shutting off the screwdriver. Apparently, he's reached the same conclusion as Alice because he utters a trademark but utterly sincere "I'm so sorry" to all the nearby plants; they sit still for a moment longer, then resume their swaying motion. 

Apparently, his apology has been accepted.

"What's wrong?" Alice asks, moving closer to his side.

"They reacted to the audio stimulus just as a living, sentient creature would. It caused them pain, so I stopped. I didn't realize," he mutters, examining the information he finds on his screwdriver.

"But what does that mean?"

He leans over the plant again, delicately taking a leaf between his two fingers.

"I have no idea."

Without warning, the plant shoots a limb out, tentacle-like, straight at the Doctor. He dodges, pulling Alice with him. The plant withdraws its tentacle-branch, sits still for a moment, then returns to its dancing. Alice glances around, wide-eyed; no one has noticed. She turns to the Doctor.

"Annoyed this plant enough, have you? I suppose it didn't like how up close and personal you were getting?"

He's busily checking over Alice and himself for injuries. "I suppose…it's just a bit odd, that's all."

"Maybe you have something it wants. What all have you got in your pockets tonight?" Before he can answer, there's a rushing, rustling noise like wind through a field. Alice looks up in time to see every single potted plant simultaneously extend tentacle-branches and begin using them to drag themselves across the floor at a rather alarming rate of speed.

Other guests notice this time, as well. Alice is glad she's worn her running shoes tonight.  
The Doctor grabs her hand and pulls her back as the crowd begins to panic and stampede away from what someone hysterically and shrilly dubs "those hideous plant fiends." The plants, however, are still shockingly quick on their tentacles, and they reach the crowd of people faster then she'd thought possible.

Some foolish person gets the brilliant idea of drawing his sword and attempting to slash the tentacle-branches from some of the nearby plants.

"Don't!" Alice and the Doctor yell together. Alice can appreciate now how the Doctor feels whenever she ignores him. Frustration doesn't quite cover it.

Several of the plants swarm the bumbling, would-be hero as the rest continue to advance. There is a terrible, wet sort of ripping sound, a scream that is abruptly silenced, and a stomach-turning squelch that Alice can hear even over the screaming of the panicked guests. Then the plants clear away, there is a large pile of human…mess left. Only…

"No brain," Alice whispers, the blood draining from her face. "They've ripped open his head and…" She can't continue.

"They've pulled open his spine, too, but they've left all the bones," the Doctor reports grimly. "Now, why would they do that?" As he moves towards the body, Alice watches the plants advancing on the partygoers. Except that they aren't.

"Doctor?" He's crouching over the ruined remains of the man, examining him as best he can under the circumstances.

"I don't know for sure, but I think they're after something else instead of the people."

He glances up. "How d'you mean?"

"Well, look." She gestures. Most of the guests have run in the direction of the main hall and front entrance, looking for the easiest escape route. The plants, however, are headed in an entirely different direction. They almost…yes, they seem to be headed towards the banquet tables.

"And they didn't attack anyone until that idiot went after them with the sword," he muses, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Except you."

"Yeah, except me…I just don't see the connection, though! They took his brain, they opened his spine, they attacked me but they didn't, not really. Maybe it's…No…No, it can't be! But it is! Hang on!" he exclaims, his face brightening. "What'd you say earlier? You said…You said maybe I have something it wants! Oh, my Alice, tonight you are breathtaking and brilliant!"  
He rummages in his pockets, searching frantically. He lets out a triumphant cry and pulls something out of his pocket. Alice stares.

"Seriously, Doctor? A banana?"

"It wasn't after me!" he cries, brandishing the fruit. "It wanted this!"

"And how'd you know to bring a banana with you to the party tonight?"

He's confused by the question. "I always bring a banana to a party. Didn't I tell you to always bring a banana? Dead useful they are." He grins and grabs her hand.

"Come look." He pulls her over to where the plants have converged on the food tables. Some dishes are devoured entirely or partially, while others are merely picked at or have been left completely alone. The plants themselves are settled back in their pots and, strangely enough, seem to be humming contentedly.

"But…what is it they're after?"

"Potassium," the Doctor says. "Watch." He pitches the banana into the air straight above a large concentration of the plants, and several tentacle-branches shoot out to claim it. In less than a second, the banana disappears in five different directions.

"They picked through all the food until they found every last bit that had potassium in it, hence why all the banana and most of the fruit dishes are gone. Anything potassium rich," the Doctor explains. He grins as the plants continue their impromptu chorus. "They don't seem to attack unless provoked, s'why they didn't hurt any of the other guests, though they obviously could have done."

Alice has a thoughtful expression on her face.

"What is it?" the Doctor asks. "Did I miss something?"

Alice shakes her head. "No, I was just wondering if you have any more bananas in your pockets."

"What for?" he asks, digging through them.

"I just thought it might be fun to see how quick they are on the draw."

...

"Really, Doctor? Seriously?"

"What?"

Alice stares at him. "According to you, we've just discovered a sentient species of potassium-devouring plants that can nearly waltz and can also kill people if the need arrises, and that's what you think I'd be wondering about? How fast they can snatch some fruit from the air?"

The Doctor is taken aback. "You wouldn't be curious?"

"Well, of course I would, but it wouldn't be the first thing that comes to my mind. Besides, that's not the point!"

He's grinning now, and she senses that even though she obviously has logic on her side, she's still losing the argument.

"So that's why you feel it necessary to take a banana to a party?"

"Well," he drawls, leaning a little further back against the console and crossing his arms over his chest, "it's one of an infinite list of possibilities. I mean, when would you not want to have a banana at a party, seriously?"

Alice doesn't miss a beat. "When it's hosted by creatures that evolved from banana trees?"

He pauses, staring hard at her. "Okay, that's one reason versus my infinite list."

She laughs as she lies back, stretching out over the longer of the seats in the console room. She dangles her legs over the edge, enjoying the absolute lazy feeling of doing nothing important and being nowhere special. It's the first break they've had in a while, and she plans on appreciating it to the fullest. Which is why she's so surprised when the Doctor returns to fiddling with the console.

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"There's a few things about your story that were just a tad off, didn't quite sync with our current situation."

"Do tell." He's still fiddling, and now he's moved on to looking something up on the pull-down screen.

"For starters, you've…well, you've never called me "your" Alice before."

He's affecting distraction now, reading over something and pretending to not pay much attention to her. "Have I not? Should work on that."

"For another thing, you were awfully detailed at the beginning of your story, even for you."

"How d'you mean?"

"When you were describing me…and the dress."

"Was I?" His affectation is still in place, but she can see the tips of his ears redden and his shoulders stiffen. "Just setting the scene, I suppose. Good story telling."

"Do you…I mean, is there really a dress like that in the wardrobe?"

After a long moment filled with taps and clunks, she hears, "Yeah, I suppose there might be."

She considers this as she watches him move around the console. She finally gives in to her curiosity. "What're you looking for out there?"

"I'm seeing if anyone's hosting any fancy dress parties any time soon."

She grins. "You want to test out your banana-usefulness theory?"

He flicks a glance up at her then back to the controls. "Nope."

"What then?"

He sets the last switch just as she moves to his side. He jerks a lever, and the TARDIS lurches into motion, tossing Alice off her feet. The Doctor reaches out a practiced arm, easily catching her, and grins widely as he sets her upright but doesn't let go.

"I want to see you in that dress."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so when I was writing this, for some reason (mainly the one Alice gives the Doctor), it was very important for me to find the perfect dress. I finally found it, and I'd love it if you could see it so you can picture it as you read the story. Go to the website for the Metropolitan Museum of Art. In the search bar, type in the following exactly, including periods: C.I.57.17.3  
> This is the dress I found, and while I realize that it might not technically be Edwardian because it's French, it's from that time period. I heart that dress so, so very much. I left off the beading in the description because I didn't want to bulk down the chapter and make it seem even more like dress-worship than it already does. Seriously, though, if you can, go to the site and check out the dress.


	15. 15

15\. In which they get cold and then they get warm.

The TARDIS shuts down. And it’s a bad thing, apparently.

The weirdest part is that nothing’s happened. They aren’t being attacked, nothing is broken, and nothing is malfunctioning. She just quits one day. 

Kaput.

The Doctor spends several hours tinkering, whacking, and cursing, but still she stays dark. He says that he knows she isn’t completely dead because some of the lights are still on and they still have airflow.

What they don’t have is the ability to go anywhere or contact anyone. Oh, and heat. They don’t have heat.

After several hours straight without heat in the dead of space with no nearby planets or stars, it’s gotten quite cold, and they’re huddled together under several blankets. 

“I haven’t given up, I swear, I just don’t know what to do!” His frustration is palpable, but as Alice’s teeth are chattering too hard to answer, she just shivers violently in response. He’s handling the temperature change much better than her, and pulls her closer, stroking her hair gently.

He plants a kiss on top of her head and whispers, “I swear I’ll get you out of this.”

Alice’s only response is to shove her hands inside his suit coat and press her freezing face into his neck, startling a small yelp from him. Though his skin is far cooler than hers, it’s definitely still warmer than the air around them.

They sit in frozen silence for several long minutes, and she knows his brain is working frantically. She doesn’t even have to look at him to see the lowered brow and turned-down mouth. And then an idea occurs to her, as very radical idea that she’d never even consider under normal circumstances. Well, okay, she’s considered it, but she’d never have the courage to do it if times weren’t desperate.

It won’t restart the TARDIS, but it will definitely warm them up a bit.

Alice takes advantage of their close proximity and turns her face, pressing a soft but obvious kiss onto the side of his throat. She follows this with another kiss to the corner of his jaw, then one more to the corner of his mouth. 

He looks down at her, cynically amused. “What happened to not starting something at the end? It’s okay for you to kiss me when we’re freezing and when we’re at a fancy dress party, but not for me to kiss you when we’re possibly heading to our deaths?”

She presses another kiss to the tip of his ear and feels him shiver in response. “First of all, you just said you’re getting us out of this, so I know this isn’t the end of anything.”

He shifts towards her, and she presses a kiss to the other corner of his mouth. “Second of all, I’m freezing, and as you are warmer than pretty much everything else right now, I happen to be taking logical self-preservatory action.”

“Preservatory…” He tries the word out, then grins. “I like that.”

“And third,” she says, taking his chin firmly between two icy fingers, “I never said I follow my own rules.” And then Alice kisses him, and it feels like forever and a little bit of a sunrise and a sunset all at once.

When the kiss finally ends, they’re quiet for a long time. Then he breaks the silence.

“You know, I’ve heard in extremely low temperatures, it’s best to have skin to skin contact under several layers in order to better share body heat. And friction…friction makes heat; that might be good, yeah?”

“You’ve heard that, huh?”

The fire is back behind his eyes. “Oh, yes.”

And then her universe shifts, and all that matters is friction and not much else.

He’s right of course, they both are, and they actually manage to work up a sweat. Afterwards, his forehead pressed to hers, both their eyes closed, he comes as close as he ever will to saying the three words she wants most to hear.

“My Alice.” So soft, she can barely hear it.

“Always your Alice.”

They lie tangled together for a long time, not speaking, just touching and breathing. Abruptly the lights come back on with a brilliant suddenness, and she feels the blessed flow of heat against her rapidly cooling skin.

The Doctor leaps to his feet, dashing manically about as he checks dials and levers and data. Alice lays wrapped in the blanket, still feeling and smelling him all around her.

“You do realize you’re running around your TARDIS with no clothes on, yes?”

He skids to a halt mid-scamper, glancing downward.

“So I am.” He flashes me a wicked little grin. “Not the first time, won’t be the last!”

Eventually, she tires of watching him adjust and check things, and she stands. Her spirits are sinking, and she wonders if she’s going to have to content herself with this one time, if this is all she’s going to get.

She starts to gather up clothes, thinking this is probably going to become one of those things they just don’t talk about, like his family history and why he’s so wrong about pears. Strong arms snake around her waist, and solid, cool flesh is pressed against her back.

“Doesn’t have to be your last time, either,” he whispers against her ear.

And Alice’s universe shifts again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been my favorite chapter to write so far, both for the obvious reasons and because I think this is one of the chapters where I felt the best about the lines I give the Doctor. I could really hear David Tennant saying some of these things. I hope you enjoyed this one as much as I did. Please let me know what you think. Thanks!


	16. Chapter 16

16\. In which there is a picnic and the ants do the inviting.

It’s a beautiful day, though Alice has no idea what season it would be as they aren’t even in her solar system, much less on Earth. She supposes it would compare to a late-ish spring with sun and a mild breeze. 

The grass is a lovely aquamarine color and seems to be a bit translucent. Their red-and-white checked table cloth is covered in food, but the bits you can still see stand out cheerily against the grass.

“This is the first time the ants have brought the food to one of my picnics instead of the other way around,” she says to the Doctor as she passes him the local equivalent of a ham sandwich; it’s really more of a layered arrangement of edible leaves and something else she can’t identify, but it’s maker has visited New Earth and assures her of the accuracy of the analogy.

“Well, yes, but I think the size difference might render your comparison a little invalid.” 

As he is currently standing several inches below the shortest of their current lunch companions, Alice can’t really argue there, but the thought continues to amuse her.

The Doctor apparently helped the locals of this area with a rather intense predator problem several years back, and now he and any guest of his are on the permanent invite list for the annual celebration feast.

“If these are the folks you helped,” she whispers, “what were the other ones like that were giving them problems?”

“Have you ever seen an anteater or a hippopotamus in real life?” She nods. “Try crossing those, add some scales and a few feathers, and then make it about fifteen times bigger. Oh, and add some really nasty pointed teeth.”

Alice’s eyes widen at the thought. “How exactly did you solve the problem? I mean, how do you negotiate with something like that?”

“Well…” He hesitates, then says with a completely straight face, “You know how people on Earth are always complaining about missing socks when they do the wash? Let’s just say the two things are related, and add that I have genius-level creativity ranking somewhere between Van Gogh and Shakespeare.”

She stares dubiously at him. “Pull the other one.”

He laughs. “No, seriously. It took me nearly a week to figure that one out, and you can’t imagine the amount of running I had to put in. Did wonders for my physique.”

“You expect me to believe you’re only so thin because you spent a week running around this place?”

He shakes his head, trying to answer around a mouthful of something and failing spectacularly. Alice pounds his back to dislodge the bit of food in his throat, and he waves off the locals’ attempts to help while he recovers from his coughing fit.

“I’m fine,” he chokes out, “seriously. I’m okay.”

Alice just manages to keep a straight face, though she can’t help mentioning, “I think it might be a first for you to have to regenerate from choking at a picnic…Wouldn’t look too dignified in the history books, would it?”

He slants his eyes at her before finally breaking out in a grin. “No, I don’t suppose it would, then. I’ve seen far less dignified regenerations before, though, remind me to tell you about some of them later. But all that running around and sorting out the predator problem was ages ago, let me think. Oh, I think three. No, hang on. Four. Four regenerations ago. Poor Peri, she kept up as best she could. I suppose I could’ve been nicer to her about that. But, yeah, this is probably the skinniest I’ve ever been, I think.”

Alice’s eyebrows raise a tiny fraction, but she doesn’t say anything. Even after all this time together he doesn’t usually volunteer information, and it’s kind of refreshing, almost Earth-normal.

“I guess all that exercise from your previous selves is catching up. You should probably do a bit more eating.”

“Oh, yes,” he agrees enthusiastically, picking up a large platter of odd bits and pieces and offering it to her. “Care for some nibbles?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite lines from the 10th Doctor was in The Lazarus Experiment when the Doctor takes something from a passing tray of appetizers and exclaims, “I love nibbles!” Or something similar to that…but it was just so ridiculously cute I couldn’t resist putting it into the story. I realize I’ve already mentioned them in the fancy dress party chapter, but technically this chapter was written first, though I ended up placing the party one before it. Such is the way of the story of Time Lords. If you’ve gotten this far, please take just a few more seconds to type out some thoughts, a bit of a review, even just a couple of words. Let me know what you think. Thanks so much for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

17\. In which an experiment goes very wrong and Alice explains something to the Doctor.

Alice also discovers that, while brilliant, the Doctor is not always the best judge of what to do in every circumstance.

"It's just a lot of really technical bits about this history of this place. The society is beautifully complicated and rather dull and difficult to explain. That's why the puzzle they've put together is so spectacularly brilliant. No one person knows all the individual pieces; they're far too bored to finish the learning!"

She lets out a frustrated huff of air and glances over her shoulder, listening hard and hoping very much that those aren't footsteps she hears.

"I understand that, Doctor, I was falling asleep right along with you. The thing is, though, we're a bit short on time, and I can't explain the bits that I know to you, either. We need to get what you know and what I know together into one or both of our heads, and it'll take too long to talk everything out."

He grimaces, acknowledging her point. "Alright, I'm sorry, but I can't think of any other way we can do this. Bear with me and hold very, very still." He gently places his hands on either side of her face, making sure to have contact with her temples.

"Doctor, what are you—"

"Information transfer; I'm a bit of a touch telepath. We-ell, more than just a bit really, but that's beside the point just now. Fair warning, it'll be a lot of information at once, so you might feel a bit lightheaded. Oh, and you might get a bit of me mixed in there as well. Can't be helped. Now hang on to me, Alice, and remember to keep very still."

He rolls his shoulders, relaxing them as she takes hold of his jacket. He closes his eyes, murmuring, "Just relax. It'll be over in just a moment, and there shouldn't be any physical pain."

"Shouldn't be—"

Then her consciousness fractures, and Alice is assaulted with images, information, and an entirely overwhelming flood of memories. She absorbs everything the Doctor needs to share rather quickly, but the transfer continues. She can't stop the overpowering rush of thoughts that's pouring from the Doctor's mind into hers.

Before she can even begin to process what she's receiving, a spike of sheer agony rips through the connection, and her last coherent thought is to wonder why someone would jam what feels like a white-hot metal rod in one side of her head and out the other.

She can hear screams echoing around the corridor, vaguely recognizing the voice as her own. Images continue to pour into her head, though she can no longer feel the Doctor's hands. She sees a world completely alien to her, though it feels more familiar than any place she's ever called home; a beautiful machine, abandoned, that calls to her, wants to run away with her as far as they both can go and then farther still; a deep, bitter despair that surpasses disappointment; finally, a crushing agony of self-imposed eternal exile that will stay with her for the rest of her existence.

She hears the Doctor frantically calling her name. Her mind is thrashed and her throat raw, but still the memories and the screaming go on, and then there's a thrill of pure terror as she feels herself free-falling through blackness. And then there's nothing for a very, very long time.

Alice comes to lying in a field of red grass. The rational part of her mind is screaming over and over that this place is all wrong, nothing is as it should be. But she knows this world as she knows her childhood bedroom, knows the vacant lot where she and her friends played. Though she's never been here she knows she is home, and she doesn't know why.

A breeze blows through the red field, and the tall grass bows and dances around her. Above her a shining, silver-leafed tree sways in the breeze, shading her from one of the overhead suns. In the far distance there are two mountain ranges, and the sight of them leaves her feeling both content and very lonely in this vast empty world. Between them, she can see sunlight glinting brightly off something massive and round.

A figure approaches her from that direction, a small black shape against the setting suns that beckons her closer. Alice stands and makes her ways towards it; instinctively she knows that nothing here will hurt her.

There's nothing left here that could.

They meet under another silver-leafed tree. The Doctor takes her hand, and together they face the brilliant glass dome of the Citadel of the Time Lords.

"Doctor…this is…but how can…is this really—"

"Yeah." His face is somber in the reddish light of the setting suns, and without a word of agreement they both sit where they are, hands still tightly clasped.

Alice asks, "Why here, Doctor? And how? You said…I mean, I'm not complaining. I never thought I'd actually get to see this place, it's only that I don't understand. How can we even be here?"

"We're not really here." His voice is distant, full of memories. "You're asleep on the TARDIS, and I'm going through various stages to wake you up. The computer directed your mind to pick a familiar safe place to bring you out of the darkness before I could bring you to a normal level of unconsciousness then finally out of this altogether. If we'd done it all at once, the shock would've been too much for your mind to handle."

Suddenly the Doctor releases her hand and pulls her hard against his chest. His arms contract painfully around her as she is lifted nearly into his lap.

"You have got to stop almost dying on me," he whispers into her hair.

She smiles and works hard to hold back the sudden rush of tears. She's getting waves of emotions, some hers and some not, and it's all a bit overwhelming.

"I'm thinking I had an unexpected reaction to your information transfer?"

He sighs, allowing her to pull away only a little. He keeps one arm tightly around her waist, holding Alice firmly in his lap.

"As far as I've been able to tell, your mental training combined with your fantastic amount of stubbornness and something else I haven't figured out yet decided to try and pull in far more information than we were actually trying to share, and your poor little human brain just couldn't handle the magnitude of all that Time Lord knowledge it suddenly received."

"Showing a bit of ego there, aren't you?"

"Who, me? I'm as modest as they come, me. Most modest Time Lord you'll ever meet, that's for sure."

Despite her lighthearted tone, Alice thinks hard on his words for a while. For someone who's supposed to currently be asleep, she is awfully tired. She leans over and rests her head on his chest. His two hearts beat out a soothing, almost-hypnotic rhythm in the vast silence that was once Gallifrey.

"I really thought I'd lost you, Alice. You've been asleep for nearly three weeks now. It's taken me this long just to find a path that could lead you out of wherever it is you've been hiding."

"Three weeks?" Surely that can't be right. They were just in the hallway; she can still remember the feel of his hands on her face and almost hear the marching footsteps coming closer, and his memories—

She clamps her teeth against the hiss in her throat as the pain spikes through her head again. Her hands claw uselessly at her skull as if she can somehow ward off the memories. Then the Doctor is there, grasping her wrists, speaking softly and urgently.

"Alice, you have to relax and let it flow. You can't fight the information, it's a part of you now. It'll damage you more than it already has. I'm so sorry, but you've got to trust me."

It's a terrible struggle, but she manages after several minutes to find a temporary balance between her own mind and the new memories fighting for prevalence. The Doctor watches her anxiously, knowing he can do nothing more than offer support. The suns slowly sink over the horizon, and darkness settles around them. Countless stars blink into sight in the sky until the moonlight trickling down through the leaves is almost superfluous. Alice shivers in the cooler air, and the Doctor removes his jacket, offering it to her.

As she slips her arms into the sleeves she wonders aloud, "If this is all in my mind, why am I cold?"

"Just reflex memory, I suppose. Your mind thinks you should be cold at night, therefore you are," the Doctor replies as he fastens the jacket buttons for her. He gazes at her speculatively a moment then says, "As we are in your mind, I'm surprised you haven't asked the most obvious question."

The corners of her lips curl slowly upwards as she watches a streak of light race across the sky.

"Why are we here in a place I logically could never have been if my mind was supposed to pick a place I felt familiar and safe? Doctor, I didn't ask because it's so simple that even I worked it out straight away, once I knew what was happening."

But he won't let it go. "Enlighten me then, because pardon the pun but I'm in the dark here."

"Doctor, you put a great deal of your life into my head. Maybe not compared to everything you've lived through, but compared to my memories, it's as if a whole other life has been shoved in. I haven't processed it all and probably never will, but the strongest bits I got were your thoughts of home. I always feel safest wherever you are, and as your memories clearly wanted you to be here, this was the most logical place for me to end up."

He is rendered speechless for one of the few times since Alice has met him.

They watch the stars progress across the sky. Sometimes they hold hands, sometimes she leans against him and he holds her so very tightly. Once, just once for several blissful minutes, they change places and he lays his head in her lap, grumblingly allowing her to run her fingers through his hair.

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?" Despite his complaints, his eyes are closed and his expression is dreamy and contented as she continues her finger-combing.

"How did you get out of that spot I left you in back on the space station? Did you get the information before the transfer went wrong?"

"Yeah, managed to get everything sorted out in the end." He pauses, then adds, "Maybe shouldn't try that transfer again. I'm quite rubbish without you, you know."

"I know. How about only if absolutely necessary?" she muses. He makes a non-committal noise.

"How much longer do we have here, Doctor?"

His eyes remain shut as he answers. "Probably another twelve hours or so; it takes a full twenty-four hours to reach a safe level at this stage of consciousness. That's why I came in here. I didn't want you alone all that time, thought I'd keep you company. Hope you don't mind being stuck with me."

That's when she knows just how horrible the time she's been asleep has really been for him.

"Budge over and lend me your arm. It's cold and lonely up here."

Grinning, he holds out his arm as she stretches out next to him. As he lightly brushes a kiss over her lips a streak of light appears on the horizon as the world around them progresses from dark to dim.

"Care for a sunrise instead of a sunset this time?"

"I'm good with either, really."

"You'll be starving when you fully wake up, just so you know. Fancy a taco run? You haven't had them in a while, and I've only just remembered this brilliant little place a few thousand years from now on the other side of Clum."

"You know, I think I've finally gotten over tacos. Quite sick of them at this point, to be honest."

His voice holds a touch of real regret. "Pity. I've developed quite a liking for them. Chips it is, then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this chapter popped in my head after watching "The Girl in the Fireplace", one of my favorite Tenth Doctor episodes. I found out later it was, of course, written by Steven Moffat, Lord of All Sucker Punches to the Feels. What really intrigued me, though, was Reinette's comment when he reads her mind. She sees something of the Doctor's mind, and I thought that was definitely a gateway for some interesting story material. And just to let the squealy fan girl out a little, how fantastic was that kiss? Thanks so much for reading.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You Need To Know: Every time you see a time designation (Ex: **Five and a Half Weeks Earlier**), it refers to that much time before the previous section, not from the first section of the chapter. For example, if you are on the fourth section of the story, and the time designation says "Two Days Earlier," it means two days before the third section, not the beginning of the chapter. It should make sense once you get into it.**

18\. In which mistakes are made, a price is paid, and everything comes out backwards.

The last few weeks have been tense between Alice and the Doctor. She's thought back more than once to the time he left her on the telepathic, fuzzy hacky sack planet, and she almost wishes she were back there now. Almost.

The Doctor is angry, even after six weeks, but to be fair he's doing his best to not take this anger out directly on Alice. It's the long silences between their stilted conversations that let her know he hasn't forgiven her yet. It's the lack of physical touch except when he absolutely has to that show her how he's currently feeling. Once a day, however, they are forced together at his insistence.

"It's sore, overly sore really. I can't move my shoulders properly. Should it still be that bad?" She can't see the Doctor's face, but Alice knows he's wearing the scowl he puts on when he's displeased but doesn't think he's showing it.

"To be honest, it'll probably be sore for a while yet." His fingers are cool against her back as they trace the tender skin around her newly formed scars. She closes her eyes, reveling in the rarity of his touch. His fingers hesitate near the middle of her back, directly between her shoulder blades. He clears his throat.

"I did tell you two of the lashes cut straight through your tattoo?" She sighs, and he nods to himself. "You've got plenty of room for others around the cuts, if you like, but there won't be any covering these scars up. The toxin saw to that."

"Saw to some other things, as well," she mutters, tugging her shirt back down. Scenes of panic and helplessness flash through her mind, trying to reach the Doctor but being almost frozen with the agony…

Silence falls between them, and Alice's shoulders droop in resignation. All she has to look forward to is tomorrow's examination. It will probably be the next time they actually speak again. Since she's fairly certain he's still furious with her, it's a complete shock when the Doctor slides his arms about her waist and tugs her suddenly but gently back against him. He leans forward slowly, tiredly, until his forehead is resting on her shoulder.

"Why do you have to be so stupidly brave and bravely stupid, Alice? All this time and you still never listen to me." The words are muffled into her shirt, but she understands him all the same. A tear slips down her cheek, and she covers his arms with her own.

"I love you, too, Doctor. And..." she hesitates. This could very well push him away just as he's finally begun speaking to her again, but she knows him, and she has to say this before he does something dangerous. "Please, you know you can't go back."

"Why would that be?" his arms tighten around her, his tone ringing with the suppressed rage only the Doctor can ever truly muster.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that. I meant please don't go back. It's not worth what it will do to you. You're better than that."

"But, Alice, what they did to you…I can't just…that's…it's monstrous, and you want me to just let it go? This could happen to others, their whole infrastructure is…I never thought, when I took you there…"

She turns in his arms and pulls his face down to hers, cutting off the flow of words with a short kiss. Alice gazes into his anguished eyes, for once knowing exactly how he feels.

"I know, Doctor, I do. But this isn't a decision to be made lightly. That isn't our world, their ways aren't like yours or mine. If you're going to do something about it, you can't just rush in there like we normally do. It's revolution you're speaking of, and even if you figure something out to get rid of his lordship, things could go much worse than they already have. Look at the French Revolution."

"Yes, but—"

"No. Not today. Not until you aren't angry anymore. Not until you can think clearly. I think after everything that happened I have the right to ask that of you. Stay with me until we're both more healed of this, and we'll think of something together. That's when we have our best plans."

His eyes squeeze shut, jaw clenching, but he finally nods. "I'll wait. But understand it's only for you, Alice. I don't know if I could do it, otherwise."

** Six Weeks Earlier**

The Doctor's face is thunderous as he is led from the prison, flanked by six robust guards.

"Where is she?" His voice is barely above a murmur, but it rings clearly through the still, silent crowd.

A short, stooped elderly man in white robes shuffles forward from behind several more burly, threatening guards and beckons for the Doctor to follow him. Without waiting for a response, he turns and makes his slow, laborious way through the throng of people. The Doctor contemptuously shrugs off his escorts and follows the shrunken old man into a building adjoining the prison.

"Where are you taking me? If she's not there, or if she's any worse than I last saw her—"

"I've done the best I can with the little I have, and I haven't left her side since the public viewing," the elderly healer interrupts. "I've kept her clean, bandaged, and as sedated as the situation allows. She's only awake for as long as it takes to treat and re-bandage the wounds."

"How bad is it?" the Doctor's voice is hollow, echoing and deceptively emotionless in the dim hallway.

"She's stable, that's the best I can say. Those infernal whips are designed to do as much damage as possible, and on top of that, his lordship's instituted the use of a new kind of toxin. Designed to cause extra pain and prevent healing for as long as possible, that is. His lordship says it's to remind those who don't know their place where they'll end up again if they don't mend their ways."

He pauses outside the room at the end of the hall, one hand on the door. His shoulders are stooped under a great weight of fatigue and age, and there is old resentment and fury in the lines of his wrinkled face.

"I've been working on a compound to extract as much of the toxin as quickly as possible…keep that to yourself, if you don't mind, or it'll be me in there on that table if his lordship finds out." He glances at the Doctor. "I've helped her as much as I could, but the scarring will be terrible, and she'll feel the pain for a long time to come."

The Doctor scrubs at his face restlessly with both hands, dragging his fingers down his cheeks before letting out a long, pained breath. When he finally feels he has control of himself again, he looks down at the wizened old man in front of him.

"I know you've done your best. You don't know how much I appreciate everything you've done. Now, let's get her to my ship as fast as we can. I can do a lot more for her there than you can here."

**One Day Earlier**

Alice's teeth clamp around the cloth so hard she thinks her jaw might shatter, and another scream rips from her raw throat. The healer's assistant clutches her hands tightly as the healer squeezes more antiseptic onto her back. If she didn't know better, she'd swear she's on fire.

"I'll give you the sedative as soon as the cleaner sets, only they don't interact well together," the old man mutters. "Just a few more minutes, hang in there, girl."

A sob escapes her, and the rag slips from between her lips.

"Please," she gasps. "Please just let me see him. Let him come see me, please. He'll want to fix this, he'll be so angry!"

"I know, dear," the healer murmurs. "That's why his lordship says you can't see your Doctor until your sentences are over tomorrow. It's the last bit of the punishment, see. You'll have to be brave for him, he'll come for you first thing in the morning."

The healer spreads more cleaning liquid over Alice's back, and the air locks in her lungs as flames sweep over her skin once more.

"He needs me," she whimpers at last. "He's no good alone, it's not right for him. He needs…"

She misses the look the elderly healer and his assistant exchange over her back. They know she's right; they've read the reports from the last two days. The cranky, eccentric man has transformed into a howling, savage beast that no one can come near. And the cause is there, plain as day, lying on the table between the healer and his assistant.

He strokes Alice's hair gently. "Just hang on until tomorrow, dear. It'll get better tomorrow." He pours the last of the antiseptic onto her wounds. Her screams drown out anything else he might have had to say.

**Two Days Earlier**

The crowd is silent, almost as loathe to be here as Alice. Well, she amends her thoughts as she tugs lightly on her wrist bindings, maybe not quite on the same level, but they obviously don't want to be here either.

Small consolation.

Her eyes flick from the post to which she's been bound to the balcony over her head where his lordship, Lord of the City, Surrounding Areas, Etc., and his lady wife sit. The lord wears the same bored, haughty expression he's had since the first time Alice laid eyes on him when they landed here over four weeks ago. Her ladyship, on the other hand, is visibly disturbed and takes every covert opportunity to mouth down to Alice, "I'm so sorry."

Alice nods back; she appreciates that her ladyship did what she could to help in the situation. 

Still, small consolation.

There's a brief commotion behind the noble couple, and a tight knot of six guards wrestles someone else onto the balcony. Alice's eyes grow wide, her breath coming fast and shallow.

"No, no, no, no, no…" His lordship promised he wouldn't have to see this. She glares hellfire and brimstone at the smirking visage on the raised chair. So that's what promises are worth in this city.

Her eyes dart away from the scene as the herald begins reading off the short list of crimes, explanations, and sentencing. She hears movement behind her and tries her best not to tense against the blows she knows are coming.

"NO!" The bestial howl comes from the balcony, and her head jerks once more to the six guards barely keeping their hold on the wildly thrashing Doctor.

"It's supposed to be me down there! You can't do this to her! Do whatever you want to me; just put me in her place! You can't—"

Then the first lash cuts across Alice's shoulder blades, jerking a shocked scream from her throat. She just manages to keep her feet by grabbing the post for support. The next three blows are expected, and she is just able to keep quiet. The fifth blow elicits a hoarse gasp, but the final one is the worst, cutting deep and straight across the others. Somewhere deep inside herself, she is shamed by her reaction.

"Doctor!" The shriek fades quickly as the air speeds from her lungs in an agonized whoosh. The edges of her vision gray, and she can hear him answering her, feral yells that would disturb her if circumstances were different.

"I'm so sorry, Doctor," she murmurs as her knees give way. She is unconscious before his reply echoes down to her on the breeze that floats through the otherwise silent city square.

**Eight Hours Earlier**

Alice is alone, and she will admit that she is terrified. Nothing in her life has ever been anything like this moment. She meant to stay with the Doctor right up until she was called out, but the guards came early, and nothing went the way she'd thought it would.

She curls into a tight ball on the far corner of her cot, wishing hard that they'd never come to this planet, this city with all its ridiculous laws and regulations. She wishes she'd moved faster, thought quicker, been able to actually stop him. Not that she blames him, not entirely. He really should learn to listen to her more often, though.

Mostly, she just wishes they were still together.

She has only a few hours until the public showing of the punishment is carried out, then three more days until she can be with him again. Three days has never felt like such a lifetime. And she hates that she's left him alone, but she wasn't given a choice about that part. They are technically criminals, after all.

She tries to force herself to sleep, knowing it will pass the time faster, but she can't seem to shut her mind off. She can hear vague echoes of the Doctor alternating between deafening silence and wrathful threats she can only hope he doesn't intend to carry out. His cell is so close and so far away, and she cringes as she recalls the look on his face when he learned what she'd done.

He might forgive her one day, but that day will be long in coming.

"At least I spared him what I could," she mumbles, pulling the thin sheet around her hunched shoulders. "I did my best."

**Eighteen Hours Earlier**

"We have to take you now, miss, whether or not you're ready." The guard seems reluctant, almost nervous, as he unlocks the cell door. "His lordship has declared the last part of the sentence shall be carried out separately."

Alice sighs, climbing to her feet. A week and a half crammed into a tiny cell with a frustrated Doctor would have been bad enough on its own. Doing so while keeping vital information from him has been nothing short of torture, especially since she's usually rubbish at lying.

She moves to the open door, trying to exit quickly before the Doctor realizes something is off. The guard swings the bars shut, but just as Alice turns to follow her escort, the Doctor's hand reaches through and snags her elbow.

"Hang on, Alice, you didn't say good-bye. You always say good-bye. You've been avoiding me most of the week. We've been apart before, even when we weren't on speaking terms at the moment, and you always say good-bye. What's wrong?"

She gives him a silent, tight-lipped smile as she tries to pull away, but his grip is tight.

"We're only here four more days. What's going on?" This question is addressed to the guard who is looking more uneasy by the second. "She's not leaving my sight without an explanation. I know the justice system here: as a prisoner, I am entitled to an explanation of sentencing and punishment. What do you mean exactly by 'the last part of the sentence shall be carried out separately?' What is it she's supposed to be ready for?"

When he gets no answer from the guard, he turns to Alice. "What's going on? What've you kept from me?" She can't meet his eyes, but she gestures the guard off. Knowing her situation, the young man backs away, giving the two of them a semblance of privacy.

"I…we can't be together for the rest. I'll take the last part of the sentencing in the morning…though our time isn't up for four days...just as you said…"

"Yes, the guard said all that, but what's this bit about the last part of the sentencing? You act like you aren't even surprised, but it's certainly the first I've heard of it." His eyes grow wide and a little hard as realization dawns. "Alice, what've you been keeping from me? What's going on?"

She should have known she couldn't keep it from him. Utter wishful thinking. He would've found out afterwards anyway and been furious for her not having told him before then.

"After you were brought in here, his lordship…became displeased at…us. He increased the sentence to maximum penalty under the law, and I…I couldn't let you face that alone, so like I told you, I exercised Familial Rights to stay with you and take part of the punishment. Okay, to be entirely accurate, he increased the sentence because I exercised Familiar Rights. It's my fault the sentence was increased, so I took the last part on myself entirely so you wouldn't have to…go through that."

"What?! Alice, what've you done? You can't! What's the last part of the sentence? You've got to tell me!"

She can't find even the smallest part of a smile for him. "I'm so sorry, but it was the right thing to do. It was my fault things were made worse for you. Four days, Doctor, then we can leave. And I can safely say right now I'd like to never come back."

The guard takes her arm, attempting to steer her away from the Doctor's grasp. As they are turning the corner, she makes the mistake of looking back. The Doctor's face is blazing, fear warring with anger as he desperately clutches the bars of the cell. His furious shouts echo down the hall, following her to her new temporary home.

"Alice, you can't! What've you done?"

**One Week and Three Days Earlier**

The guard unlocks the cell door, gesturing for Alice to step inside. She seats herself next to a bemused Doctor on one of the small cots in the tiny cell.

"I thought I told you to stay on the TARDIS while I was in here! They can't have locked you up for what I did?" the Doctor asks, quickly hiding a tiny, pleased look that flashes across his face. Just as she thought: he's more than a bit relieved to not face all this time alone. She tries to reassure herself that she's done the right thing. She can't meet his eyes, though. This is going to be one hell of a week.

"They thought we were married. Someone advised me not to disabuse them of that particular misconception, so I was able to use the Familial Rights plea and spend what I'm sure will be a wonderful two weeks together with you here."

He narrows his eyes at her, and she's sure he's about to see through her vague half-lie, so she tries the best tactic in the world for throwing the Doctor off one scent: give him something to argue about.

"You know neither of us had to be here in the first place if you didn't have this annoying penchant for touching things you aren't supposed to…or, I don't know, not listening when I'm trying to tell you vital information about the laws and customs of where we are!"

His eyebrows shoot up in shock, then lower in annoyance so quickly it's almost comical. "Oi, now, who taught you everything you know about planetary customs and laws in the first place, eh?"

"I suppose you want me to say you, but if that's the case, then answer me this: who did the illegal touching that landed both of us here in the first place, idiot?"

And to this, of course, he has no answer. Alice sighs. It's going to be a long two weeks, and she's going to have to keep him distracted for the whole time.

**One hour earlier**

The Doctor goes willingly if not pleasantly with the guards, shouting instructions to Alice over his shoulder the whole time. It's the usual sort of thing: stay on the TARDIS, don't touch anything, don't wander off.

She wishes he would take his own advice sometimes, or at least listen to her. She turns to the lord and his wife, shaken by the sudden turn of events but do as much damage control as possible.

"I beg your pardon, your Lordship, but could you please explain to me why the Doctor's actions offended you so, and how long his sentence will last?"

The man's expression is cold, cruel, and utterly bored. "For touching my person without my consent, he shall serve no less than two weeks in complete solitary confinement. No contact from anyone, no visitors at all, including spouses."

Alice opens her mouth to correct him but stops at the nearly imperceptible shake of her ladyship's head. Apparently it's important that the lord believes she and the Doctor are married, but why? Alice thinks hard on what she remembers, long lessons of laws and customs with the Doctor on the TARDIS. What is she missing? Then it hits her.

"I claim Familial Privilege and Rights of Shared Sentencing," she declares. "By your laws, I have the right to share a family member's sentence at the same time and location for the duration of punishment."

Her ladyship gives Alice the briefest of triumphant smiles, but it fades quickly at her husband's next words.

"If that is your wish, then I declare maximum sentencing on both declared criminals, as I'm sure you understand your new status under our laws. Two weeks to be served together or partially together as per my wish, six lashes to be divided equally between them."

Alice blanches, but there's a reason she's spent so much time and effort studying different planetary customs.

"Then I declare Familial Incompetency. As my husband would be unfit to handle the physical portion of punishment, I volunteer to take all six lashes. As he would be mentally unable to bear the stress of witnessing this act, I formally request your lordship keep him from the event."

That should cover everything.

"Your requests have been noted and approved," his lordship replies, dismissing Alice with a brief wave of his hand. She doesn't like the nasty, cruel little smile playing on the nobleman's mouth, but there's nothing she can do about it as she's led from the square.

**Seventeen Minutes Earlier**

"It's been a brilliant two days here, hasn't it?" The Doctor is bright and cheerful as he leads Alice around the outer edge of the city square. "Lovely people, though a bit subdued I must say. Oh, look!" He points across the way to a small entourage with a lovely smiling woman and a rather sour, unpleasant looking man at the lead.

"It's his lordship and her ladyship, the noble couple responsible for the rebuilding and reformation of the city and the surrounding areas. They run the place now, did you know? We missed them when we first got here, and I've really wanted to congratulate them on how brilliantly it's all turned out!"

Alice hesitates, something nagging at the back of her mind. "Doctor, I don't think that's the way things are done here anymore."

"Nonsense! The handshake's been the official greeting around here for centuries, I should know; I introduced it!"

Alice is thinking furiously and has a sudden, sharp moment of realization, but she's already too late.

"Doctor, wait, it's—" He's already across the square, seizing his lordship's hand, rambling with enthusiastic praise that bubbles out like a fountain.

"A crime," Alice finishes lamely. Judging by the extremely offended look on the lord's face as he calls for his guards, she was a bit too slow to stop the damage.

"Oh, dear…"

**Two Days Earlier**

"Are you sure this is where you want to visit, Doctor? Our lessons about this region have been a bit disorganized, and I tend to know more about their customs than you do. That's never good."

"Nonsense, Alice. It's the Reformation period in this sector of the universe, and it's supposed to be an absolutely brilliant time for tourism. We'll be fine! I know the local customs like the back of my hand."

"Yeah, but this hand or the one you lost?" She wants to add something about the juxtaposition of people who prefer non-violent methods of negotiation possessing fighting hands, but the Doctor is several paces ahead of her and still rattling of bits of information to prove how much he knows of this area.

Alice sighs and sets off after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost didn't post this chapter after rereading it. Seriously, this was really tough, and I'm still not one hundred percent about whether or not I liked it. It's not like any other chapter in the story, but it's a bit of build-up for something in a much later chapter. Thanks so much for reading this far.


	19. Chapter 19

19\. In which a clock is read and a discovery is made.

It takes them seven more years to realize there’s something wrong with her. 

On the anniversary of her first full, personal year of traveling with the Doctor, he gives Alice an odd sort of clock: instead of telling the time of day, it tells how much personal time has passed for her since she first met him. He says it’s a better way of measuring how long she’s actually been with him, since traveling around so much tends to mess with one’s perception of the passage of time.

According to the clock, Alice should look ten years older than when they started traveling, but instead she seems to have only aged about three. The Doctor has many theories, some which actually make a good deal of sense, but he’s still worried.

“People just don’t tend to stick around me for this long, so I haven’t really been able to observe the effects of all this traveling on regular humans…Honestly, I’m afraid I’ve done something to you.”

She manages to calm the Doctor down enough to convince him that they need a break for a little while. Six world saves in two weeks is rough even for the two of them. He finds them a nice, quiet village in New Italy around the year five billion and six, and she is delighted to find that it’s market day. Brightly colored stalls stand next to blankets laid straight on the ground and covered with everything from pottery to jewelry to dried and fresh herbs and produce.

Alice is so lost in the simple joy of walking among the different stalls, holding the Doctor’s hand, and just spending time together that she almost doesn’t notice when she literally bumps into herself.

“I’m so sorry, I—” And then she sees who they’ve run into. “Does this happen to you a lot, Doctor?”

One of his eyebrows is up, and his hand is in his coat, already going for the sonic screwdriver. 

“You’ve been with me long enough…how often have you seen it happen?”

“I conceded your point…so is it us, or something else?”

Up until this point, the other “thems” haven’t said anything yet, waiting to see how Alice and the Doctor will react, she supposes. The other Alice raises her hands slowly and as non-threateningly as possible, calmly displaying what she is holding: it’s the clock the Doctor gave Alice nine years ago, by her own time. At least, that’s what her clock back on the TARDIS is currently reading. The time on this one says twenty-seven years, eleven months, sixteen days, one hour, five minutes, and twenty seconds.

“But…you…” She knows she’s stammering, but Alice can’t help herself. “You look exactly like me! You should look older!”

“You mean like how you should, as well?” the other Alice replies, a sympathetic half-smile on her face.

Ten minutes later, the four of them are seated at a small table outside of a tiny café with even tinier coffees in front of them. Alice can’t help but stare at the other Doctor. He’s obviously the same, but there’s something so different about him. 

The worry lines in his forehead are much deeper, but so are the smile lines around his eyes. He’s a little more relaxed next to the other Alice, as if there weren’t any other place he’d rather be. And then she sees it.

He’s aged, though not much at all; only someone who’s spent so much time in his company would realize it, but he’s gotten older. She remembers their conversation years ago about whether he would grow older.

So much more slowly than humans, he’d said. Apparently, the other Alice has been with him for almost twenty-eight years, and he looks no more than a couple of years older.

“The long and short of it is that this is the week you should’ve figured out that you aren’t aging properly,” Other Alice (as Alice has started to refer to the other couple in her head) starts. “The Doctor’s scans have shown nothing horribly abnormal or dangerous, although there are some weird readings in reference to your DNA, yeah?”

The Doctor nods, confirming this.

Other Doctor picks up here. “Your case is rather unique, as not many humans have spent so much time…traveling with a Time Lord.” 

Alice picks up on the subtle pause and emphasis on the word “traveling,” and her face turns a bit red. It’s one thing to discuss this with her Doctor, but discussing it with this older Doctor is a little weird. Other Alice grins in commiseration, apparently remembering how she felt. Other Doctor continues.

“What we’ve eventually realized is that your extended time on the TARDIS added to multiple brief exposures to numerous types of radiation across the universe, plus the long-term repeated exposure to Time Lord…DNA…has resulted in a subtle and benign but permanent alteration of your own DNA structure. It’s such a random combination of events, we calculated the odds of this actually happening and came out to somewhere around 1 in 10 to the thirty-second power.”

“Translation for human?” Alice asks.

Other Alice grins. “You’ve changed, and you’re not aging properly anymore. You’re a freak of nature, a rather intriguing anomaly that will probably never happen again in this particular universe. Does that make sense?”

“Maybe a little,” Alice concedes grudgingly.

“Now, hang on a minute,” the Doctor interrupts. “You say her DNA is changed, which I can agree with based on my scans, but how do you know it’s benign? And how do we know there won’t be other side effects like regeneration or mind-overload or something?” 

She’d have to be mental not to sense the panic rising in him, and Alice places her hand on his thigh, willing him to stay calm; a panicked Doctor is a dangerous Doctor. He relaxes by a fraction at her touch but still eyes the pair opposite them as if something nearby is about to explode.

“Well, it’s not as if you’ve transferred your mind to her…quite the opposite, actually,” quips Other Doctor. Alice’s face heats to a mild vermillion while Other Alice smacks him on the arm, and they exchange a grin. At least nothing’s changed there.

“As far as we can tell, in the time we’ve been together (she gestures at the clock, which she’s set on the table), the only differences are that I heal a little faster and I haven’t aged much since the first time we…Since the time the TARDIS turned off.”

Alice is relieved she’s not the only one who has issues talking about it openly.

The Doctors have a few more questions for each other, and Other Alice joins in their discussion, but Alice is lost in the implications of this revelation. The rest of the day passes in a blur for her, and before she knows it they’ve said their farewells to the older pair and are back on the TARDIS.

“Un centesimo for your thoughts?”

“I…” She hasn’t spoken since they said good-bye to themselves, and she doesn’t know where to start now. He kisses Alice gently before resting his forehead against hers.

“I know…it’s a lot to take in.”

“Can…can I still die? I mean, of old age or accident or…I don’t know…This is…”

He pulls Alice tight against his chest, wrapping his arms around her quite as if he’s holding her together. His face is buried in her hair, so his reply comes out muffled, but she can hear the strain in his voice.

“I think…the slowing of your aging processes and the increase of your healing is the extent, but…I think we’re just going to have to wait and see.”

She nods. Really, what else is there to say at this point? Her mind is racing with all the questions she knows she should’ve asked: How long do I have now? I won’t age…So I could be with the Doctor indefinitely? Alice is on the highest of momentary highs, and endless possibilities are dancing right there in front of her until…

“But…you won’t…Won’t you get tired of me?”

The muffled voice from her hair replies, “With the knowledge and experiences that I currently have right now, to the best of my abilities, I cannot conceive of any situation where I could possibly ever be tired of you.”

“You’re making fun of me again.”

“You’re being insecure again,” her hair replies. She moves back a step and takes his face between her hands, looking him right in the eyes.

“Are you sure this is what you want? Me? For all that time? Seriously?”

His hands are strong and solid against her shoulders. “Are you sure this is what you want? All this danger? All the running and the screaming and the chaos? If you spent less time with me, if you were away from the TARDIS for a while, I’m sure the effects would wear off or even reverse a little and catch up for lost time.”

Alice grimaces. “That’s exactly what every woman wants: time-lapse aging. But that isn’t the point. Do you want me to go?”

If he weren’t already holding Alice, she might flinch from the look he levels on her. 

“Never.”

His lips are on hers before she can properly respond, and she’s lost for a long, wonderful moment. Then he pulls away with the air of someone about to say something he’ll regret.

“But I want to give you one last chance. You could still have a normal life. You could go home, meet a regular bloke, have kids, that sort of thing. You could grow old with him. You don’t have to stay with me because of this. I’m sure the effects would wear off in time.”

He hesitates, makes the face that means he’s already regretting what he’s going to say.

“I could wipe your mind so you don’t remember me, any of this. You really could start over somewhere.”

The TARDIS hums, the stars burn, the planets rotate, people live and die and suffer, and the Doctor does not rescind his offer to take Alice back to Earth. He’s scared, she knows it, but this is too much.

“Except that you can’t.”

“What?” She loves it when he’s more confused than she is. There are very few times when Alice gets to feel smart around the Doctor.

“You can’t wipe my mind, Doctor.”

“Excuse me, I most certainly can. I’ve had to do it to others, and some of them human. I am perfectly capable of—”

She can see this is going to go on for a bit, so she cuts him off. “Do you remember when you were engaged to that princess a few years back?”

“Which time on which planet?” Insufferable man; she only wishes he was kidding.

“The one where you left me in a sewer for ten days, and I trained with the revolutionaries.”

“Oh, yeah. Should probably pop in and check on them sometime.”

Alice thumps him soundly on the shoulder, knocking his attention back into the conversation.

“I trained with them for almost two weeks, a little combat, but mostly mental training. The royal family controlled the lower classes by removing any subversive thoughts.”

His eyes open wider when he realizes where she’s headed. She gives him a tired half-smile; it had been a hell of a week-and-a-half, after all.

“The rebellion succeeded because they found ways to resist and even reject the mental wipes. I was going undercover for them, so they had to teach me.”

“So…you can’t forget me?”

“Not even if I wanted to, which I don’t. So stop offering to take me ‘home.’ I am home, idiot. I will never have a normal life, and I would rather live indefinitely with you than have kids or grow old with anyone else in existence in any universe in any time frame. I never want you to be…I will never leave you alone.”

His smile is a little sad now. “Don’t you mean with the knowledge and—”

“No,” she interrupts him, her face completely serious. “No, I mean this. I will never leave you alone. Not until you ask me to.”

There doesn’t seem to be much else to say just then, except—

“So, come on, where do you want to celebrate?”

“What are we celebrating exactly?” Alice asks as the Doctor leaps around the console. He stops and grins at her, and of the hundreds of times he’s done that over the years, she’s never seen the light that’s behind his eyes now.

“Anything and everything we want, my Alice, which is exactly what you’ve just given me. Allons-y!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn’t want to work, so I had to tweak it a few times. I really like the clock concept, though, and I feel like all the companions should have one. It’s good to know just how long you’ve actually been doing something, considering you could travel for thirty years and come back to five minutes after you left for the first time. As always, if you made it this far, you deserve far more than my thanks.


	20. Chapter 20

20\. In which Alice retrieves a screwdriver and the Doctor stops a countdown.

He’s just finished one of his infamous five minute lectures on something Alice has no idea what he’s talking about. The ship they’re on, not his, is set to self-destruct in thirty minutes, and she’s switching her gaze back and forth between him and the awe-inspiring, picturesque view of the TARDIS floating peacefully in the empty space outside. She sighs.

“I love you, but I swear I think you love the sound of your voice more than most anything else.”

He’s puzzled, but his hands never stop working; he was connecting wires and fusing circuits the whole time he was talking.

“Did I go on for a moment? Sorry, won’t happen again. For a while.”

They’re interrupted by huge, crashing blows against the barely-bolted door to the bridge where Alice and the Doctor are currently hiding with the remnants of the crew. A woman whimpers from across the room, and the acting captain (who earned quite a promotion after starting today as a sergeant) orders whoever’s still conscious and paying attention to arm themselves.

There’s an explosion somewhere nearby, and as they’re rocked sideways, the sonic screwdriver flies from the Doctor’s hand and lands in front of the door. Alice doesn’t hesitate, scuttling quickly after it. 

She dives, grabbing the small, rolling tool that’s saved them countless times just as the door rises a few inches. A large, scaly hand shoots under the door, but Alice throws herself out of its reach just in time and makes it back to the Doctor’s side just as the door bursts open.

“How’d you get it back so fast?” he asks, connecting the last of the wires. She ducks as the force field around the door bursts into life, sparks flying as the invading…things…crowd into the frame only to be shocked backwards.

“I’m so used to it happening now that I never bother to see where it’s going because it tends to go in one or two particular directions. I pretty much pick and throw myself in the general direction I know it’s going to end up. By the way, what are those things?”

He grabs Alice’s hand, and they dash over to the freshly activated control panel. He starts working furiously on shutting down the self-destruct sequence while at the same time forcing the invader’s ship to emergency teleport the creatures outside the door back where they came from. Twenty-seven minutes left.

“How can you not recognize the Quintus Family variation of the Ralthornus from Vydrion 7?”

Alice shoots him a very patronizing look. “Because someone has been a bit delinquent in remembering to schedule the tutoring lessons he’s been giving someone else on the known alien species and planets of the known galaxy, and because of said delinquency, I’m only up to the M’s. Sound familiar?”

He pauses a moment, his face screwed up in concentration, then he resumes typing.

“As I recall, said delinquency was caused by the tutee distracting the tutor on multiple occasions with rather wanton, lascivious behavior.”

Twenty-five minutes.

“You weren’t complaining at the time.”

“And I’m not complaining now.” He finishes with a flourish and spins, grinning broadly. She can hear the furious but fading shrieks of their former attackers as they disappear from behind the force field.

She looks at the countdown clock. Twenty-four minutes; far less dramatic than usual. “You didn’t let it run down very far this time. In a hurry or something?”

He considers the clock a moment before turning a rather devilish smile on Alice. The fact that they are currently surrounded by the sparse remnants of the ship’s crew does not escape either of them, but right now the Doctor doesn’t seem to care. “I do like to let them run down a bit, normally, but a certain tutee has now reminded this tutor that he’s quite behind in his lessons and should work on catching up.”

“Now? You’re thinking about galactic geography and history now, in the middle of all this?”

“Actually,” he murmurs, pulling Alice closer, “I was thinking more about biology and anatomy.”


	21. Chapter 21

21\. In which the Doctor meets someone old and Alice meets someone new.

Alice and the Doctor don’t often spend a lot of time apart, but eventually everyone needs a bit of a break, a change in routine if you will. The Doctor has a sudden urge to traipse through the floating rain forests of Terrium, and while Alice fully supports his choice, she personally has no desire whatsoever to visit a planet where dragonflies are the size of pterodactyls.

“They’re still beautiful!” the Doctor insists. 

“They’re still the size of small planes,” Alice replies. “I’ve explained my policy on insects too large for me to squash.”

The Doctor agrees to pick her up in four days provided she keeps her cell phone on her at all times. He watches her anxiously as she packs her bag and heads toward the doors of the TARDIS. Alice is reaching for the handle when he catches her hand, pulling her around to face him.

“Promise you’ll be careful. Promise you’ll call if anything, I mean the tiniest thing, seems out of sync or wrong even in the slightest.”

“Doctor, I’ll be fine. I’m sure nothing will happen. It’s just a nice, relaxing, quiet mini-holiday. Nothing strange could possibly happen at all.”

They manage to hold straight faces for nearly thirty seconds before the laughter bursts out. Alice drops her bag, grasping at a coral beam for support, while the Doctor clutches his stomach as he almost literally rolls in the floor.

He’s still chuckling as he recovers most of his composure when he lifts her bag from the floor and hands it to her.

“Be safe, my Alice, and enjoy your solo adventure. Four days, this time, right here. You have your phone? Make sure to—”

She silences his list of instructions with her lips on his and then hugs him tightly.

“I’ll see you in four days, Doctor. We’ve done this before. I love you, and you’ll be fine.”

Two hours later finds Alice checked in and settled into her hotel room. She wanders the winding streets of the quiet French village for most of the morning. Everything here is so peaceful, so different from what she’s used to that she takes her first few hours in the town to simply re-acclimatize to a lifestyle of not running for her life.

People are friendly here, more than willing to help strangers and tourists with directions and suggestions, so by the time she remembers it would be a good idea to eat something, there’s a wonderfully helpful person who reminds her a of a lovely little café she passed a few streets over.

After some wrong turns and a little backtracking, Alice happily seats herself at an empty table by the street and places her order without embarrassing herself. While she waits for her food, she settles back in her chair, quite content at her first morning in this new place. She’s accomplished absolutely nothing of value to the universe, and it’s a wonderful, lazy sort of feeling.

“Excuse me, miss, could I trouble you for a moment of your time?”

She’s pulled from her wandering thoughts by a man at a nearby table. He’s put down the newspaper he’s been reading and is gazing intently at her. His messy brown hair flops over his forehead almost into his eyes as his unsettling gaze rests decidedly on her. Despite his quiet intensity, however, Alice doesn’t feel nervous or threatened in any way.

On the contrary, this might be the most non-threatening, unassuming man Alice has ever laid eyes on from his Oxford professor-type clothing (seriously? A bow tie?) to his twelve-year-old “I’m too busy and excited to properly brush my hair” demeanor.

And because he instantly makes her feel so at ease, Alice is immediately put on her guard. Only one person has ever made her feel as safe and calm as she does now, and this is not that man. Her cell phone is in her hand before she fully forms the thought.

“You won’t need your phone, Alice, I’ll explain everything. Okay, that’s a lie, I most likely won’t explain everything as that would take ages. I could explain several things, but again with the time, so really let’s just say I can totally explain who I am and why I’m here and why you don’t need to use your phone. Well, okay, mostly.”

She’s dumbfounded. First, he can’t even see her phone; it’s still in her hand, which is currently in her pocket. Second, what? No, seriously, what?

He looks nervous, fiddling absentmindedly with his bow tie as if he could pull some courage from it.

“I’ve never done this sort of thing before, you see. Not really, at least, not to this extent. I mean, when I was young and full of mischievous pride maybe I got into some similar high jinks but nothing on this scale nor with someone quite as Alice as you. Only, I thought of all that mental training you’d had and did a little research of my own, and I came up with this brilliantly insane plan that just might work, though I’m not sure because I haven’t finished talking yet. Then I remembered dropping you off here, and you said it was such a lovely, ordinary, uneventful trip, so I thought it would be the best time to try this out so I wouldn’t change anything important that’s supposed to happen. It’s not a fixed point in time, you see, so I can muck about with it just a bit.”

She gives him a moment so she can see if he’s a) still breathing; and b) out of words.

“Do you feel better now?”

“Yes, thank you, it’s probably your turn.”

“Let’s start with the obvious questions first, then: who are you, and how do you know me?”

“May I come sit with you?”

“What?” The question is so unexpected she almost doesn’t process it correctly. “Why? And why won’t you answer my questions?”

He sighs and sets his elbows on the table in front of him, resting his impressive chin on his upturned palms.

“I’d really like to come sit with you. Alice, if you just think and remember and think a little more, you’ll know I’ve already answered your first question. Follow that line of logic, and you’ll find the answer to your second question. I’ve just answered your third, we’ll skip your fourth for now, so looking at your fifth, I think you’ll find I’ve already answered your questions, except the fourth, which I’ve skipped.”

He stands, moving slowly and deliberately so as not to alarm her until he’s seated in the chair by her side. He leans forward, and his green eyes are old and sad, as incongruous on his young face as the fusty, stodgy clothing he’s wearing. Alice has the strangest desire to tell him his eyes are just as lovely green as they are brown.

He places his hands gently on her cheeks, and she finds that she’s lost the urge to use her cell phone. Also, it’s just a little difficult to breathe. His voice is quiet, intense, and impossible to mistake for anyone else.

“And to answer your fourth and most important question, I want to sit next to you because you are my Alice, and I haven’t seen you properly in such a very long time, and I’ve missed you so very much.”

Then he kisses her, and Alice forgets most of her other questions. They are, of course, interrupted by the waiter, but this is France and, as they aren’t being rude or lascivious, no one really cares.

She gazes at him for a long moment after the waiter has departed, then she can’t help herself any longer. 

“So the Doctor wears bow ties now?”

His fingers dance self-consciously along the edges of his tie again. “Of course, what else would I wear?”

“I suppose it’s better than ruffles or question marks all over everything,” she muses, recalling the images she’s seen of some of his previous regenerations. 

“Well, bow ties are cool. So…yeah. Bow tie.”

As they eat, Alice silently studies this new Doctor, occasionally reaching up to touch a spot on his face or to move a strand of his hair to a different spot. He allows all this placidly, willingly, and once his eyes even close as a mixture of pleasure and melancholy crosses his face when her fingers brush through his hair.

He is finally the one to break the silence; she gets the feeling that this Doctor is not good at staying quiet for very long.

“You must have a million questions, or at least a hundred. If you’re done eating, we could maybe wander about and talk. I always loved talking with you, though I was rubbish at it. Kept a lot of things shut up inside that I should’ve just said; you even told me that once, do you remember?”

They take care of the bill, and Alice allows herself to be led around the streets she’s been wandering with the most familiar stranger she’s ever met. But then, the Doctor never really felt like a stranger, even that very first night.

He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, his thoughts eerily in sync with hers. “I’m like something familiar that hasn’t happened yet?”

If she was harboring any doubts, they’re definitely gone now.

“I think I have fewer questions than you might think, Doctor.” She hesitates over the name, even though she knows it’s the right thing to call him; it’s just a very bizarre situation.

He seems delighted and intrigued at the same time. “How so?”

“Well, I’ve narrowed down my list a bit, partially from deduction and partially because there are some things I don’t need or want to know.” She takes a slow, bracing breath as she knows they’re about to cover several subjects she often tries very hard not to think about.

“At some point, you’ve obviously regenerated. I don’t think I should know how or when in case I might be tempted to do something differently and end up mucking about with your current existence. Well, current for you personally.”

He’s truly quiet for the first time, listening anxiously as she goes through her points.

“At some point…at some point, you lose me. I don’t know why or how you do, and I know I shouldn’t know that.” Her throat closes for a moment, and she quickly dashes tears from her eyes, hoping he won’t notice. “I thought I’d given you someone you could spend the rest of your life with at last. I’m so sorry, Doctor, for whatever it is I’m going to do wrong.”

“Alice,” he whispers, pain etched deep into the single word, but she stops him.

“No. I know better. The less said, the better off we’ll be. Don’t tempt me, don’t tell me a thing, because I can promise you I will do anything in my power to keep you from being alone again.”

They’ve reached a walking path that runs alongside the river next to the village. There’s a small boat anchored in the middle where an old man and a young boy are fishing. Alice turns to the Doctor.

“What I’d like to know, or rather what I’m going to ask first, is why did you come back now in your personal timeline? Are you alone again?”

He holds her gaze for as long as he can before glancing away.

“Not all the time, no, but mostly. I lost two very good friends recently…I do still have a friend of sorts, but she can’t stay with me all the time. So…like I said…mostly.”

There’s a bench nearby, and Alice leads him over to it. She finds that he is just as unable to sit still as his predecessor, but he makes a valiant effort.

“So, what am I supposed to do? About you, I mean? You can’t erase my memory, so am I supposed to tell my other Doctor about you, about everything I’ve figured out just from you being here? I don’t fancy lying to you, and I’ve had to do it once already.”

“Well, here’s the thing, Alice. Like I said earlier, you’ve had all that mental training ages ago. I did some research, and I found out that you can use it to suppress things, completely block out memories from yourself if you choose to. The revolutionaries figured it’d be a good idea in case the royals caught hold of any spies. Apparently, they had time to teach you but not to tell you they’d done so.”

She let’s this sink in before answering. “So you’re saying you want me to spend this trip with you, knowing at the end that I’ll have to force myself to completely forget about it—and you—and you’ll go back miserable and alone to wherever you’re supposed to be at the time?”

“Pretty much.”

His poker face has definitely improved. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he really was as carefree and unbothered as he seems.

“You’ve never asked me to do anything like this before; you’ve never really asked me to do anything as a benefit to you, not on this scale with as many potential adverse consequences as this. Do you know what that tells me, Doctor?”

His relaxed affectation is completely gone now as he stands, miserably tugging his jacket straight. “You’re right, Alice, of course you’re right. It was horribly selfish of me to ask this of you. I can show you how to forget this bit if you like then I’ll be on my way.”

She catches his hand and pulls him back down to the bench. “Has anyone besides me ever informed you of how thick you really are for a certified genius? It tells me, idiot, that you must be really lonely to risk so much just to see me again. You lost someone really special, didn’t you?”

Then his arms are around her, his face buried in her hair, and she can feel a trickle of moisture rolling down her shoulder.

“I’ve missed you so much, my Alice, you’ve no idea…I could never…so many…”

She holds him, lets him hold her until the sun has nearly set. They walk back to her hotel together, hand in hand, talking about absolutely nothing important whatsoever. They continue along this vein, and dinner is delightful with the Doctor telling Alice of all sorts of adventures he’s had over the “Alice-less years,” as he calls them. He speaks the most about a girl named Amy and her husband Rory, but Alice doesn’t question him too closely.

Dessert is some sort of custard dish, and Alice gives him a look of utter disgust when he proclaims it would be better with fish.

They continue talking, spending the evening sitting in Alice’s room until she nearly falls asleep sitting up. The question of sleeping arrangements becomes rather awkward, with Alice unsure if unconsciously lying in a bed with a man who is and isn’t her Doctor constitutes unfaithfulness.

“You’re him,” she says finally, turning to the nervous, bow tie-twiddling alien. “How would you feel about it?”

He avoids answering her question, fidgeting nervously by the door to her room. “I could go back to the TARDIS for the night and meet you for breakfast, if you like.”

Typical. Even now she still has to make the first move.

“Just get over here already. You know I only bite on request.”

“Well,” he qualifies her statement as he sheds his jacket and slips the red braces off his shoulders, “there was that one time…”

Grinning, she turns back the bedcovers and slides between the sheets. “Fine. Unless under the influence of a very rare, very specific alien-origin chemical, I only bite on request.”

He toes his boots off, flings his bow tie to join his jacket, and settles next to her on the bed. She lays her head on his chest, which rises as he sticks his nose into her hair and inhales deeply.

“Do I smell the same as you remember?” she asks sleepily, already lulled halfway to unconsciousness by his dual heartbeats.

“Much better, much more Alice. Sleep now, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

The next three days are a blur of small, sweet moments and dreadfully mundane fun. The nights consist of intimate dinners, romantic dancing, and long, quiet talks while the Doctor holds Alice until she falls asleep.

“Is this what a real vacation is supposed to be like?” the Doctor asks as they stroll through their third olive field of the week. They are on their second walk of the day, and Alice thinks to herself that at least she won’t have to worry about falling behind on her exercise. He grasps Alice’s hand in his, fingers laced, swinging their arms slowly back and forth between them. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Alice replies. “I think this might be my first.”

The Doctor shoots her a worried glance. “I’m not boring you, am I?”

“Very much so, and I adore every moment of it.” She kisses him on the cheek and is startled into a yelp of surprise when he suddenly, literally sweeps her off her feet and kisses her soundly.

“You are still as perfect and breathtaking as ever, my Alice. Never forget that.”

Their last night together is surprisingly painful for Alice. She doesn’t quite know what to say to this impossible man who has now stolen her heart twice. She sits with him on her bed, listening intently as he explains the process of memory suppression.

“You’ll need to do it tonight as you fall asleep,” he says. “It takes at least five hours in an unconscious state of mind for the process to take full effect. And you’ll need to come up with a false scenario to take the place of what you’re pushing away. Easiest thing would be to simply remove me from what you remember of this week and picture yourself having lots of long, solitary walks.”

She swallows hard, nodding, and turns away from him as a tear courses down her cheek. He gives her a moment before moving to her other side and gently brushing the moisture away.

“I can see you again, if you like. You can let yourself remember this again, you just need some sort of trigger phrase to bring back the memories.”

“All that repeated suppression won’t damage me?”

“No, on the contrary, it’s like exercising a muscle; you get more strength and precision the more you use it.”

“Then please come back when you can, Doctor. Please come see me again.”

“There’s so many things I want to tell you, so many things I never said to you that I should have, Alice.”

The air has changed between them, the old tension Alice remembers from before the time the TARDIS stopped and the heat went out.

“Doctor, you should know that if you keep talking on this path tonight, one more thing’s going to happen that I’ll have to suppress.”

He doesn’t back down. “You told me often enough, you deserve to hear it, too, even if you won’t remember it.”

“Doctor, I’m serious. I won’t—”

But he is determined. “I love you, Alice.” She is on him almost before he can get the words out, and it is a long time before either of them says anything else coherent.

They lie tangled together afterwards, temporarily sated. Her back is to him, and he’s taken to tracing his fingers over her various scars and tattoos. She smiles to herself, though it’s tinged with sadness.

“You really do have to lose something to appreciate it, don’t you?” she murmurs.

“I do appreciate you, my Alice, I mean your me. He does. We’re just too much of an idiot to say it often enough and in the right timeline.”

She turns to face him, taking his face between her hands. “But not anymore? Not now?”

He smiles sadly and leans forward to kiss her forehead. “No. I’m older and much more mature now. Grown up a bit, as it were.”

“It’s time, isn’t it?”

The Doctor nods. “If you want to make your meeting with me in the morning, yes. You don’t want to be late for that; as I recall, you were actually waiting rather eagerly for me.”

“So your ego hasn’t been damaged…”

He doesn’t say anything. They both know she’s stalling for time. Instead, he pulls her into a bone-crushing embrace.

“I’ll see you again before you know it, literally,” he murmurs into her hair. “I love you, my Alice. Now you must forget that.”

“Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?” She’s holding back the tears, but only just. She doesn’t want this to be any harder on him than it already is.

“Yes, my Alice. Always.” He’s quiet for a while, but just as she’s falling asleep he asks, “Do you have your trigger yet? If I could ask…”

She murmurs it sleepily in his ear, and he laughs aloud, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. 

“Quite right, Alice. Quite right.”

_________________________

Breakfast is a boring, relaxed affair that Alice mostly enjoys. She is packed and ready to go well before check-out time. She has thoroughly enjoyed her mundane, dull vacation, but she is ready to be back on the TARDIS with her Doctor.

Before the arranged meeting time arrives, however, Alice decides she would like to return to the lovely outdoor café from her first day in town. She sips her tea, watching people pass by, and allows herself a bit of daydreaming. Once, she looks around to see a handsome, boyish sort of man glancing at her over his newspaper. He smiles, embarrassed to have been caught staring, and ducks back behind the paper.

She grins and returns to her tea, but when she looks back at him a moment later, he’s already gone and only his folded newspaper remains.

The agree-upon time arrives, and the Doctor finds Alice waiting on a bench across the street from where he lands the TARDIS. She feels as if her smile is in danger of leaping off her face, and she runs to him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly.

He returns her kiss eagerly, surprising her by lifting Alice right off the ground and actually spinning them in a circle.

“Pathetic, the two of us,” she giggles as he sets her on her feet. He retrieves her bag and holds the TARDIS door open for her. “Apart for four days, and you’d think we hadn’t seen each other in years.”

He immediately goes into an excited, long-winded description of all the trouble he got into on Terrium without her, and she almost—almost—regrets not going with him.

“You’re hopeless without me, you know.” She shrugs off the nagging little twinge of melancholy that flits through her stomach at the offhand statement. They don’t have to worry about that anymore. But there is something she needs to tell him, if only she could remember.

“So how was your week? Any adventures?”

“Nope. Just a lovely, ordinary, uneventful trip. Blissful and blessedly dull, really. I wandered around all week and looked at things and thought about things and did absolutely nothing productive or active.”

He fails to hide his grimace of distaste. “Sounds…lovely.”

“Oh, shut up. I know you’d have been bored stiff, but I did want to tell you something.” Think, Alice; what was it?

“Yes?”

“It’s okay, you know. That you don’t say it aloud. I love you, and I know you mean it. I say it enough for both of us.” That isn’t quite what she was trying to remember, but she feels deep down that maybe it’s close enough.

He looks up at her from where he’s typing on the console, and his voice is a bit concerned. 

“What brought that on?”

She’s not quite sure, but she has a vague memory. “I met someone, a nice young man staying at the hotel. He lost someone a while back, and he said he regretted not telling her more often that he loved her. I just…I thought of you, and I wanted you to know that it’s okay that you don’t say it. I love you, and I know you mean it.”

“You know Alice,” the Doctor remarks, regarding her gravely over the console, “I could travel another thousand years or so and never find anyone quite as breathtakingly Alice as you.”

It’s the first time he’s used her name in that way, but it feels wonderfully right and achingly familiar. Of course, that’s the same general feeling she has about the Doctor all the time, so she shrugs it off and settles herself into the jump seat.

“Where to now?”

“Maybe another fancy dress party? I’m in the mood for some proper dancing, and I’ve a sudden fancy to see you in a bow tie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to do this one, it was inevitable. It wouldn’t leave me alone until I’d done it, either. I’m planning on working Eleven into another chapter in a round-about way. As always, thank you for taking the time to read.


	22. Chapter 22

22\. In which Alice meets a new friend and the Doctor avoids an old one.

Alice checks her watch for the third time, knowing the futility of the habit even as she does so. Apparently twenty-odd years are not enough time to break that kind of habit. She’s waiting for the Doctor at a small pizza place in New York City (regular New York, not New New York), and he is now over two hours late. As this is nowhere near his worst timing, she’s not too worried. She just hopes he gets here before the place closes; he’s promised that this is the absolute best pizza in the known universe, and she’ll admit she’s more than a little excited.

There’s a sudden wooshing noise followed by several loud thuds, and then something a few blocks away explodes, rocking every table and chair around her with the impact. Alice being Alice, she immediately jumps to her feet and runs outside amidst falling plates and glasses so she can see what’s going on.

People are running and screaming in every direction, typical panic-reaction to a crisis situation, and Alice can hear more whooshes and detonations. She’s trying to decide if the noises are coming any closer, when she’s grabbed from behind and pulled out of the way of a piece of flying debris she never even saw or heard coming.

She turns to thank her rescuer (if there’s one thing she’s learned in all her adventures with the Doctor it’s that politeness is rarely ever wasted), and she comes face to face with an extremely handsome dark-haired man in a rather dashing long coat reminiscent of World War II. He also happens to be in possession of one of the most entrancing smiles she’s ever seen.

“Captain Jack Harkness at your service, ma’am. I hope I managed to get you out of harm’s way in the nick time.” He continues to beam at her as he shoulders his ridiculously large gun. Compensation jokes run rampant through Alice’s head, but she remembers her lessons in manners and just manages to hold them back.

“Thank you, Captain.” She smiles. He’s as cheesy as they come but in a way that makes her want to hug him tight even though she’s just met him. Then she pauses.

“Wait, the Captain Jack? As in the Doctor, Martha Jones, and Captain Jack?”

His grin widens. “You know Martha and the Doctor?”

“I’m…traveling with the Doctor now.” That seems to be the most tactful way to describe it, though her face heats at a stray memory of someone else using that same phrase.

“That’s fantastic! Where is the Doctor? Is he coming here?” He breaks off from their conversation to fire two shots over Alice’s head, and something large crashes further down the block. He waits until the sky is clear again before turning back to her.

“He is, but he’s late…as usual.”

Alice swears this man is the Cheshire Cat personified. “So, by your time, how long have you been traveling with the Doctor?”

Alice thinks back to this morning when she checked her clock as she was getting dressed. “Close to twenty-two years.”

He looks confused for a moment then his expression clears.

“No, I mean by your personal time. You know, physically since you’ve met him, not literally by the date.”

Alice smiles. She’s gotten this reaction more than once in the last few years. “I know, Jack. That’s what I mean.”

“But…jeez, did he pick you up when you were a kid or something? You can’t be more than thirty! Er, twenty-nine!”

Clever man…

“I’m closing in on fifty now, actually. Aging got slowed down from long-term exposure to the TARDIS and…other…things.”

His smile returns then, and Alice turns bright red. Her and her big mouth. Something about this man makes just makes her want to talk to him, spill her guts as it were. 

“I understand. I’ve had some exposure to other things that ended with a similar side effect. Although,” and the look he shoots her now is positively wicked, “I’m betting your other things were a little more enjoyable and possibly less traumatic than mine.”

He sighs, glancing over his shoulder. Alice can hear a faint rumbling in the distance, and she wonders if the Doctor is going to get here before the situation has been resolved.

“Maybe if I’d just held out a little longer with him, eh? Oh, well. Hey, if you or the Doctor ever get tired and need a break from each other, just let me know.” He wraps Alice in a bear hug and plants a fantastic, smacking kiss right on her lips. 

As he starts of in the direction of the highest level of commotion, he calls back over his shoulder, “Or if you two want to, y’know, spice things up a little, just gimme a call!”

She wave as he leaves, and his shout of “Tell the Doctor I said hi!” is lost in the whirring that announces the arrival of the TARDIS. The Doctor steps out, and his eyes immediately take in the debris littering the street.

He’s grabs Alice tight then puts her at arm’s length for examination before she even realize he’s completely out of the TARDIS.

“What was it? Are you hurt? Did you see anything?”

“I’m fine, and no, I never actually saw anything. Well, unless you count a handsome rescuer who made a rather inappropriate pass, told me to tell you hi, and gave me one hell of a good-bye kiss.”

The Doctor doesn’t miss a beat. “You met Captain Jack, didn’t you?”

Alice nods, grinning. A half-amused, half-annoyed smile crosses the Doctor’s face before he turns, his arm around her shoulder, and herds Alice back toward the TARDIS.

“Shouldn’t we go help him?” She’s a little confused at their sudden departure; the Doctor rarely passes up a chance at adventure, and this one even has a handy (and handsome) friend included.

“No, I’m sure he and his team have got this.” In fact, most of the screaming has faded, and there’s very little commotion any more.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stick around? He made me a couple of very interesting offers, if you’re interested.”

“You know, I’m really not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Captain Jack. He is one of my all-time favorite companions, although I don’t know how much weight that holds, since I haven’t seen much of the original show in a very long time. As always, thanks so much for reading.


	23. Chapter 23

23\. In which the Doctor doesn't beg and Alice gives in anyway.

"You're being awfully unreasonable about this, Alice."

She is adamant, though. "I just don't see the plus side of it for me."

"Think of it as a valuable learning experience, a new addition to the vast education you're receiving at my side."

She raises an extremely skeptical eyebrow. "Please, Doctor, enlighten me as to how this could possibly be considered an educational experience."

He grin and answers, "Oh, Alice, surely you've been with me long enough to know that with any new experience there's always something to be learned. I guarantee you'll know more when we're done than you did when we started."

"I've certainly learned to run faster," she mutters acidly; her comment, however, does nothing to dampen his enthusiasm.

"There, you see? I've done wonders for your stamina. I'll be you could run a marathon on a whim now if you wanted. Might not necessarily win, as there's always room for improvement, but you'd definitely finish with a decent enough time!"

He glances at her extremely displeased expression and winces. "Oh, I've gone and been rude again, haven't I? I'm still having issues with that."

"That's not the point, Doctor!" This comes out rather more emphatically than she intends. The Doctor looks a bit startled and concerned over her current emotional state, so she takes a moment to gather herself. She hopes he isn't taking her outburst personally.

"Why here?"

"Because it's where the TARDIS brought us." He says this as if it's the most obvious thing in the entire universe and how could she not simply just know it as he does.

"How do you know she didn't bring us here for something else, to help someone like usual? Some crisis to solve, some disaster to divert?"

"I just know," he insists. His face has gone a bit red, and he's avoiding her gaze now.

Alice closes her eyes, massaging her throbbing temples gently. Arguing with him is always a pleasure of its own, but she still gets those nagging little headaches when they can't see eye to eye. She wishes sometimes it was easier for them to share the psychic link so they could converse a little more freely, but they learned a while back that it was never going to be an easy thing for them.

"Doctor, do you remember when you insisted on going back to ancient Greece to see the last bit of construction on one of Aphrodite's temples?"

He has the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "And I've apologized for it several times, but I still think it was an extremely educational experience."

Alice stares at him. Seriously?

"Doctor, you do remember they accused us of desecrating the temple before it had even been dedicated?"

"Yes, but—"

"And they were going to make a burnt offering of us in said temple to purify it and dedicate it in the goddess's name?"

"Yes, Alice, but I convinced them that that's exactly what we were doing to begin with, and they let us go! They even threw a festival in our honor and carved reliefs of the two of us on the temple walls!"

"Because that's exactly what the world needs more of," Alice grumbles, her face bright red from the memory. "Naked me carved everywhere."

"I could do with more naked you right here."

"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope." He pops the "p" sound at the end of the word with relish, sensing his impending victory.

"And I can't talk you into a more interior location?"

"Alice," he explains patiently, "the whole point of outdoors sex is the having of the sex…well, outside. Besides, what's wrong with where we are now? It's perfect."

Alice sighs. "I suppose. If you really want to."

His grin never falters as he pulls her to him. "You truly know how to flatter a man, Alice. Most enthusiastic reception I've ever gotten for this sort of proposal."

"Wait a sec, how many proposals like this have you—" His lips catch hers, cutting Alice off quite effectively for several long, enjoyable moments. Then she pushes him away.

"If we get caught this time, I'm staying in the TARDIS for two weeks, I swear."

"And if that happens, I can think of several new indoor activities we can add to your ongoing education in there just as well as anywhere else."

"And you promise this trip won't end with riots or sacrifices or naked images of the two of us plastered everywhere? And don't think I haven't seen some of those drawings in your journals!"

"With the knowledge and experiences that I currently have right now, to the best of my abilities, I cannot conceive of how this situation could possibly end with…hey, wait a minute! You were snooping in my diary? Oh, Alice, how very melodramatic of you." He's still smiling, so she knows he isn't angry.

Just as well, as he hasn't any right to be.

She returns his smile, though, ineffectually shoving at his shoulder as he tries to pull her close again.

"You left it lying out on the console of the TARDIS, open to the pictures you wanted me to see so you got watch me go all red!"

"Alice, if this is really something you don't want to do, if you're truly that uncomfortable, then we don't have to do this." She knows he's serious, and she very much appreciates the offer. She just hates how disappointed he sounds. And she does trust him. Mostly.

"It's not that, Doctor; I just have an aversion to running for my life completely starkers."

"Yes, but—"

"I swear, if you make any sort of comment about showing off my assets, we will have a serious issue."

His pout is award-winning. "You spoil all my best one-liners."

"Doctor, I think I am one of your best one-liners."

"Oh, my Alice," he purrs, nuzzling his face into the side of her neck, "there's so much more to you than one-liners, but I can't disagree with the "best" part of what you were saying."

She's suddenly not as opposed to the idea as she was a few minutes ago. The doctor can be awfully persuasive when he wants to be.

He steps back from her, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he slowly opens his suit jacket one button at a time. She giggles when he flings it dramatically away; he'll be upset later when he can't find it.

He loosens his tie next, pulling it over his head and holding it up between them before dramatically letting it slip to the ground. He eyes her significantly as he unbuttons and untucks his shirt.

He takes two long strides backwards and somehow manages to flop both gracefully and comically onto the blanket he'd laid out before their argument began. He turns on his side to face her, propping himself up on one arm and holding his other hand out to her in invitation.

Her eyes sweep over him from his perfectly tousled hair to his bare chest just visible under his open shirt to his cheerful red trainers, one crossed over the other in what she's sure he thinks of as a seductive pose.

He's not far off, at that.

His face is serious, but his eyes are dancing when he asks, "May I have this 'dance,' Alice?"

They lie tangled together for a long time, wrapped securely in the blanket. The sun has set and the stars are shining above them.

"How many sunsets is that for us, Doctor? I lost count after five hundred."

He knows she means the sunsets they've actively watched together, not just the ones they've lived through. It's a habit they like to indulge in from time to time.

"We're up in the two-thousands or so," he murmurs from where his face is buried in her hair. His finger traces delicious tingling lines up and down her spine. She knows he remembers the exact number, but she doesn't push. The moment is too lovely to bother with arguing.

"So," he says, stretching as his face emerges from her hair, "was it as bad as you thought it would be? Riots in the street, wrath of the gods, moons falling from orbit and all that?"

She hides her grin in his shoulder so he can't see.

"No, Doctor. It was just as perfect as I was afraid it would be. I was thinking, actually, of…" But even after all this time with him, all these years together, she can't always bring herself to say some things out loud.

Fortunately for Alice, the Doctor doesn't always have to use telepathy to read her mind.

Even later that evening, they are more tangled than ever; the blanket has disappeared to who knows where, tossed in the same general direction as the doctor's jacket.

Alice is just drifting off when a thought occurs to her. "Doctor?"

"Hmm?" He's absentmindedly winding and unwinding strands of her hair around his fingers and is uncharacteristically relaxed for once.

"Have you ever seen the official opening of the Eiffel Tower?"

The question seems to take him by surprise, and he pauses mid-twist.

"You know, I never have, actually. Why do you ask?"

She's glad the darkness hides the blush that is suddenly staining her cheeks.

"I was thinking that my…education was seriously lacking in the French History department. What do you say to a field trip?"

She doesn't have to look at him to picture the delighted expression he must be wearing, but he takes great pains to keep his voice controlled and a little pompous when he finally answers.

"As professor and head master officially in charge of your educational experiences, I hereby grant my permission to make use of the TARDIS and all other necessary apparatus in order to further the 'education' of one Miss Alice Evans in the subject of French History, specifically the history, opening, and architecture of the Eiffel Tower."

He turns to her, and his excitement is palpable. "You know, there are some other quite interesting areas of French History I'd be happy to show you, if you'd like. They got up to some rather wild antics in a few of the royal courts."

She smothers a smile. "Let's just start with the Eiffel Tower and see how we do up there."

"Well, then, Alice, there's no time like the present to head off to the past! Allons-y!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did not want to end. I had to physically take my pen away from myself (I handwrite these before I type them; helps me think better). Then, when I was typing, I ended up adding over a hundred more words. Not that anyone is complaining. I just kept thinking of things I wanted to include that I couldn't fit into any other chapter. Also, if it seems familiar, it's meant to be a bit of a mirror piece all the way back to Chapter 12, in which Alice begs and the Doctor finally gives in. As per usual, if you've made it this far, thanks very much for the read.


	24. Chapter 24

24\. In the Doctor speaks his mind and Alice pretends not to hear him.

Sometimes he likes to watch her when he thinks she’s sleeping. Sometimes she likes to pretend she’s asleep just to enjoy the quiet, uninterrupted feel of his full attention.

Often, he does no more than simply run his fingers through her hair. She has a hard time keeping a straight face when his fingers catch in tangles and he mutters quiet curses to himself. The Doctor will never make a good stylist, she thinks.

Sometimes he traces the lines of the few tattoos she’s collected on her back throughout their years of travel. Turns out tattooing wasn’t just a silly phase she went through as a young adult; she truly enjoys finding something special to add to her collection. 

She has one of the TARDIS that glows when the engines are activated. It’s come in handy a couple of times when the ship decides to activate and go somewhere while they aren’t on board. Alice privately thinks that sometimes the TARDIS needs a vacation from them; she doesn’t really blame her, either.

She’s got one she can make sing just by focusing her thoughts. It’s the only part of her that can hold a tune, which the Doctor finds endlessly amusing.

Sometimes he traces the lines of her scars. He always has a set pattern he follows.

Starting at her forehead, he traces the thin, faint line that runs from her nose over her left cheekbone then curves down slightly to touch the edge of her earlobe. That one was from a particularly vicious species of flying whats-its that only vaguely resembled the Earth-origin bats they were named for. She almost lost an eye that day.

He moves next to her back, tracing the six thick lines of varying lengths that mar her beloved field of tattoos. Six cuts from the whip she took in his place that day, and six guards it took to hold him back while it happened. He didn’t speak to her for nearly a week afterwards, then it took another few weeks for them to properly talk to each other for the first time. The Doctor was more than a little angry after that disastrous incident, at her for taking his punishment and at himself for failing to stop her. 

Of all her scars, these are the ugliest, but she still shows off her tattoos proudly. She isn’t ashamed of the scars. She doesn’t think it’s a bad thing to have a reminder that she’s spared him some pain, even if it’s only a drop in the ocean he’s already suffered.

He moves to her wrist next. The melted-wax looking scars from that day in the forest with the giant, arachnid-like Cranzent have never faded, but that was another day she saved him, and she’s never regretted it. 

He’s made a habit over the years of buying her some sort of cuff or bracelet or watch from nearly every place they visit. At first, it was guilt: he didn’t want to look at the ugly reminder of his failure to keep her safe in the forest that day.

As time passed, however, it became something of an inside joke and then simply a fond tradition. She has over a thousand now, and she loves almost every one of them. Not the ones that smell, though. He thought those were funny. Sometimes they still disagree when it comes to humor.

Eventually, he makes it down to her feet. The scars there are probably the strangest looking, unpatterned and irregular. Some are longer, some are small circular dots. They are a strange mixture of burn and laceration scars; running over sharpened, heated salt gravel will do that to you. 

He runs his fingers slowly over each one, and she is glad at these times that she isn’t ticklish. In the end, he always finishes by stretching out behind her and gathering her into his arms. His front presses to her back, and she honestly believes that this is the most wonderful place in existence.

He wraps his arms tightly around her, chin resting on the top of her head. Sometimes he talks to her, then. She used to think he knew she was awake, but eventually she realizes that he’s saying all the things he feels like he can’t tell her when she’s awake. Even after all their time together, there are still things he can’t tell her. Not that he wants her to remember, at any rate.

She gave up being angry about this years ago. It’s just who the Doctor is.

Sometimes he talks for hours, and these are the times she is lulled to sleep by the smooth cadence of his voice. Other times, it’s just a few short, emotional sentences, and then he can’t go on.

More often than not, though, he simply whispers, “I’m sorry, my Alice. I’m so sorry.”

He pretends not to notice the tears that drip onto his arms on those nights.


	25. Chapter 25

25\. In which Alice asks some questions and the Doctor reveals what he's been hiding.

"Doctor, I've been meaning to ask you something."

He's mostly under the console with only his brown-suited legs sticking out below the knees. Despite the clinks and clanks emanating from the hole he's stuck in, Alice knows the Doctor can hear her quite clearly.

So when he answers, "How long?" Alice is thrown for a moment. It's not the response she was expecting.

"What do you mean 'how long'? Why should that matter?"

"Well," he drawls, pulling himself out from under the console, "You only tend to save up questions you want to think about, things that bother you, that sort of thing. Otherwise, you to ask me straight away. The longer you wait the more something's likely to be bothering you."

Oh.

"Well, um…It's been quite a while since the thing happened that I want to talk about." She didn't realize she was so transparent, but Alice has no doubt that the Doctor is telling her the truth.

He eyes her speculatively, pensively poking out his lower lip as he sits up. "How long, Alice?"

"I…er. I have some questions about the night we first met, actually."

His eyes pop a little. "Blimey! Alice, I knew you liked thinking things over, but it's been nearly forty years! What could possible bother you that much?"

She can't help but laugh at his shocked expression, but she manages to answer, "I haven't been thinking about all of it for that long. Most of my questions only occurred to me a couple of weeks ago."

"Alright then, why don't you lay them on me, and we'll go from there?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Lay them on you? Really?"

"You're right, I'm not saying that ever again," he agrees, grimacing. "Doesn't get you out of sharing, though."

Alice figures why not jump right in, so she does. "I suppose for starters, why were you in that bar to begin with, since we both know you don't drink much if ever. Did you know that alien was going to be there? Why did you chat with me when my opening line was so very awful? I'm not that interesting, and seriously my pick-up line was the worst. Why did you invite me with you? I know you were lonely at the time, but you'd only just met me, and I know you didn't fancy me right off the way I did you."

"And don't grin at me like that," she adds at his amused expression. "I know how obvious I was, but at least I didn't take three years to admit how I felt."

His smile is infectious (he should use it more often, she muses), and Alice can't help but return it.

"Actually, now that you bring that up, Alice, I've got a bit of a confession to make." The Doctor's expression is guilty, but not the all-consuming, couldn't-save-someone sort of guilt she's seen on him before.

On the contrary, this more closely resembles a twelve-year-old who's been caught doing something he knows is wrong but is proud of all the same. Before she can ask, however, the Doctor is typing something into the console and pulling the view screen around so Alice can see. A semi-familiar face appears, and Alice blinks in confusion.

"Your last regeneration? What does he have to do with this?"

"The thing is, Alice, this face I've been showing you of my last self, the one you've been able to view in the TARDIS memory all this time…well, it's not really me."

She glances at the Doctor, then the screen, and back at the Doctor. "But why would you lie over something as inconsequential as that? Your last regeneration didn't have anything to do with me; I didn't meet you until well-after that."

"That's not entirely true, you see," the Doctor says, pulling a bit of a face. He shoves one hand into his pocket and uses his free hand to tap a key on the console. The false face on the view screen morphs into a completely different image, and Alice stares, completely dumfounded, as a sense of familiarity washes over her. She knows this man, she's sure of it. In fact…

"This is the man who'd stood me up the night we met! D'you mean to tell me that's you? But…how is it…I swear, Doctor, only you could manage to stand me up and make our date all on the same night!"

"Brilliantly put, Alice." He's beaming now, his face lit up with barely contained laughter. She shakes her head, turning back to study the image on the screen.

"Seriously, only you. But why did you never tell me?" she asks pensively. The Doctor's kept things from her before, intentionally and unintentionally, but this is one of the very few times he's deceived her outright.

Now the guilty look becomes one she's more familiar with, and he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his head. "The thing is, at first I didn't want to tell you because I thought you'd be understandably angry at me, and I didn't want to scare you off. I was afraid you wouldn't understand, you see. Then, after a while, I just sort of…well, I forgot. I am over nine hundred years old, I'm allowed to forget a few things."

She sighs, resigning herself to his explanation; it makes sense, after all. Seriously, only him.

Alice gazes thoughtfully at the view screen, looking into sad, haunted blue eyes she hasn't seen in almost forty years, and the night comes back to her in a sudden, unexpected rush of details.  
…  
She's standing in line at a corner café sort of restaurant, and the line in front of her is moving along well enough until there's only one person between her and ordering lunch. She's fairly spaced out on a lovely daydream about the mini-break she's hoping to be able to afford next year, when she comes back to reality at the sound of some heated arguing.

The man in front of her is frustrated, more than a little upset with the cashier about something. Alice doesn't mean to eavesdrop, but the people in line behind her have jostled her to the point where she's almost pressed against the man's leather-clad back, so she really can't help overhearing.

"That's ridiculous, and I'm not paying it! You can't seriously ask that much just for some chips!"

The cashier, a bored teenager who looks as if he'd rather be anywhere else, grumbles in response, "Then you don't get no chips, mate. You pay, or you go. Next!"

The leather-jacketed man is practically vibrating with tension, eyebrows lowered as he rummages through his pockets. He eventually comes up with a few pence, some foreign coins Alice doesn't recognize, and a wind-up toy.

"Not enough," the cashier quips, oblivious to the irritation and embarrassment on the man's face. Alice recognizes that look, though; she's had her own days where she didn't even have the money for beans on toast, much less a plate of chips. Before the man can explode again (and he definitely looks ready to go off), Alice steps up to the counter and slaps down a tenner.

"Make it a large chips, add two drinks, and shove the rest of your attitude before I call your manager and have your job, you worthless twit of a child."

Her tone leaves absolutely no room for argument, and both the man and the teenager gape at her, though the teenager does as he's told. Alice wonders for a moment if she's imagining the smattering of applause she hears behind her. Within minutes, Alice finds herself seated at a table across from this man, far away from the register and the still-stunned cashier.

"Cheers," the stranger says, saluting her with a chip and grinning before popping it into his mouth.

"I don't suppose that pompous little twat knows what it's like to be short some change in front of a line of people or has ever been spoken to like that before. Probably needs a bit more of it," Alice comments, her sense of injustice still settling down. She has no patience and less use for idiots. She takes a long drink of her soda to calm herself, relishing the rush of sugar and caffeine as it hits her bloodstream.

Soda is Alice's coffee.

The man watches her curiously from across the table. "That stuff'll rot your teeth out, y'know."

"Yeah, and those chips'll ruin your girlish figure as well," she returns cheerfully. When he openly smiles back at her, she feels her face color slightly.

"I hope I didn't embarrass you back there," she says quietly. "It's only that you looked like you're having a rough time of it, and I know something of what that's like. I wanted to help, if I could. I'm Alice, by the way."

She offers her hand, and he takes it, shaking it enthusiastically. "Well, Alice, it's always good to have one's faith in humanity upheld, especially by the little things." He holds up a chip for demonstration.

She studies him quietly over the next few minutes, hoping she isn't staring too rudely. He's tall, with an almost military-short haircut that only serves to emphasize his prominent ears (which she finds strangely endearing). He has a lovely smile, though Alice gets the impression he hasn't used it a lot recently. His eyes are troubled, as if he's got worries and problems Alice couldn't even imagine. She forces herself to pull her eyes away from the interesting way his jacket hangs on his frame, focusing instead on him as a person rather than something on display.

"So, you aren't from around here? You sound a bit far from home, and some of the money you had…" She chides herself for her ridiculous attempt at small talk, but she can't think of anything else to say.

"From the North, actually, but I travel all the time. Just passing through and on to the next adventure."

That explains the foreign coins, but Alice's interest is more peaked by the curious tone he uses when he says 'adventure.' Does he mean that literally?

"Married? Kids, that sort of thing?" What hell is wrong with her?! Is she drunk?

He laughs, though not in a cruel way, and Alice gets the impression he might know exactly what she's thinking. "Nope, it's just me. Why? Are you offering?"

She laughs despite the reddening of her cheeks. "You'd have to get a couple of drinks in me for things to move that quickly, mate. Maybe travel a bit together first or something."

His eyes are twinkling, but the rest of his face takes on a suddenly serious demeanor. "All right, then."

"What?" Alice isn't sure she heard correctly.

"You and me, Alice. Couple of drinks, maybe some light traveling. What do you say?"

She's beginning to wonder if traveling might turn out to be a euphemism for something else, but she shoves the thought from her head.

"Why don't we start with the drinks and see where it goes from there?" she asks a little breathlessly. There's something entirely too intriguing about this man. "I have to get back to work, but I'm done at six. I could meet you at half-past at the bar just round the corner from here?"

Say yes, say yes, say yes…

"Sounds perfect. It's a date, then. I have to run now, as well, but it was fantastic meeting you, Alice, and I'll see you there."

She takes a moment to recover from the sudden turn of events before she realizes something. She turns and says, "Wait, you never told me your—" But he's already gone.

"Name."

Six-thirty arrives both faster and slower than she thought possible. After scanning the room to make sure he hasn't arrived before her, she finds an empty seat at the bar where she can see the door. She orders a drink and settles back to wait.

And wait and wait.

By nine, she's a little buzzed and quite depressed. She sees someone enter, and for a moment Alice feels a little thrill in her stomach. Something in her knew he wouldn't stand her up; this must be him, she just knows it!

But no, it's a completely different bloke in a long tan coat who doesn't look anything like her mystery man.

When the bar's new addition takes the stool next to her, the one that's magically managed to stay empty all evening, she takes it as a the final sign that her stranger isn't coming. She sighs and signals the bartender for another drink. Her eyes meet the new stranger's for an accidental second, and they both flash quick smiles before looking away.

Though she tries, Alice can't keep her eyes off this new man. There's something so depressed and lonely about him, and he looks even worse than she feels. She steals another glance at him, and is surprised to find he's doing the same back at her.

His wildly ridiculous (and rather marvelous) hair is styled to the point of nearly standing on its own, and he has a lovely smile (though she gets the impression he hasn't used it a lot recently).

"That's a lovely coat," she says, and if she's surprised herself at her boldness (taking the first step twice in one day!), she's absolutely shocked and appalled at her next words.

"It'd look better in a heap on my bedroom floor."

But the comment has her unconsciously desired effect, and he's startled into laughing. Grinning and blushing profusely, she apologizes.

"I'm so sorry, I must've had a bit too much. I don't ever say things like that, I swear!"

He waves off her apology (such a lovely smile), still chuckling. "No, no, it was absolutely brilliant, seriously. I suppose I needed a bit of a laugh."

…

Alice turns to the Doctor. "So why'd you come back? And how long was it for you between when we met and when you came to the bar? Why didn't your earlier self show up?

The Doctor's amused expression sobers under her barrage of questions, and he settles back into a seat beside the console. Wordlessly he opens his arms to her, and she fits her back against his side, allowing him to wrap his arms around her and pull her close against his chest.

"I left that stupid café and that idiot cashier that day with every intention of meeting you. I went back to the TARDIS, thinking I'd just cheat and skip the five hours until you'd be there. When I landed, though, I saw I'd overshot it by an hour or so, and I was in the wrong part of the city!"

"And," he adds, his tone becoming a bit harassed, "as soon as she finished materializing, some of her external warning bells started going off. Took me fifteen minutes of scanning to figure out what was bothering her so much. There was a Nestene Consciousness somewhere in the area, and I knew I couldn't just leave it. Those things never turn out well."

He rests his cheek on top of her head, pulling her tighter against him. Alice knows he's gathering his thoughts, and she completely understands. She has a few ideas and questions buzzing around her head as well.

"Wait a moment," she says, realization hitting her like the proverbial ton of bricks. "THE Nestene Consciousness? As in, the reason you met Rose? Oh my God, that was the night you met Rose! Seriously? Blimey, no wonder you didn't make our date. I don't think distracted quite covers it."

He nods, cheek still resting on top of her head. He absentmindedly runs a strand of her hair through his fingers over and over.

"Now fast forward a few years. The Year That Never Was has finally ended, Jack and Martha have gone off on their separate ways, and I've just saved the Titanic." He's quiet a moment, and she knows he's thinking of Astrid. "I wasn't in the best of places. And then I started thinking of you, little bits at a time. Your face would pop up in my mind, or I'd see someone drinking soda with that look of sheer bliss you had."

Alice smiles; she hasn't had a soda in such a long while. After traveling with the Doctor for so long, everything else seems to fade a bit in comparison.

He continues. "Then one day I decided I wanted to visit the planet Midnight; I had a fancy to see the Sapphire Waterfall, you see. Have I ever told you about it? On the Multifaceted Coast, you see, and—"

"Doctor…"

"Right, sorry. Anyway, instead of taking me to Midnight, the TARDIS set me down right outside that bar where I was supposed to meet you. It was late, but I figured…" He trails off, and she smiles.

"Better late than never…the basis of our relationship, that is."

"I never did figure why she had me there so much later than our original date," he murmurs into her hair.

"Well," Alice muses, "It's funny, but you showed up right around the time that I finally gave up on your other self. I wouldn't have bothered with another bloke before then, would I? At least you did come back after all."

The Doctor shifts, pulling her around until she's facing him, and places a gentle kiss on her lips, her nose, and finally her forehead. He looks her right in the eyes and won't let her look away.

"One of the best decisions I ever made in my entire life was to walk into the bar that night."

"You mean one of the best decisions the TARDIS ever made for you?" But there's laughter in her voice, and he knows she isn't upset.

After a moment she adds, "I'm glad you didn't wait too much longer, though. I was pretty close to smashed when you finally did show up, and you might've changed your mind about taking me with you."

He laughs and replies, "How could I resist you after that professional grade pick-up line you threw at me? Putty in your hands, that's me. And the way you handled the Kelfricon War Monger without blinking an eye! I've seen grown men literally wet themselves at the mere idea of facing one of them."

"It helps to have absolutely no idea what you're doing," she confides.

"You know, Alice," the Doctor murmurs, pulling her in close for a kiss, "I think that might be the basis of our relationship."


	26. Chapter 26

26\. In which years pass and he still doesn’t say it. 

So many years pass. Alice loses count of how many planets, how many worlds they save together long before they realized she stopped aging, and afterwards is a long, wonderful string of the most amazing, heart-wrenching, breath-taking people, worlds, and adventures.

And she gets to do it all with him, her Doctor.

They spend their times apart, a few hours here, a day there, a week or so at the most. But otherwise, it’s always them, always together. They just don’t need anything else. 

He never says the three words she wanted him so badly to say, but then she’d known somewhere in the back of her head that he wouldn’t, almost as if someone had told her. Eventually she realizes that she doesn’t need to hear them. She lives them every day with every touch of his fingers, every smile he keeps just for her, every stupid joke that only they understand.

And she’s happy.

Alice and the Doctor never make their relationship “official,” though he does bring it up once. She thinks he does it because he wonders if she’s bothered that he’s never asked. Alice doesn’t honestly care one way or the other, but she appreciates the thought so she tells him so.

“And,” she adds, “If I need official proof of the status of our relationship, I can always borrow your psychic paper and save us the cost of a vicar.”

“Well, I could do it, you know. I’m licensed in over thirty galaxies in four or five hundred different religions.”

“Why don’t we just go on an extra honeymoon instead?”

“I do actually know this one place. There's a moon that's made of actual honey. Well, not actual honey. And it's not actually a moon. And technically it's alive. And a bit carnivorous. But there are some lovely views.”

“Brilliant. Let’s go there. You know, right after we invite the Cranzent to join us for an Old Time’s Sake reunion.”

“I could get you a ring, if you want.”

“Doctor,” Alice replies, smiling. “As long it comes in a blue box that’s bigger on the inside, you can get me anything you want.”


	27. Chapter 27

27\. In which the Doctor gives up and Alice’s universe fractures.

“I can’t fix this!”

He’s giving up. She’s never seen him this scared in all their years together, and she has absolutely never seen him give up. But he is, and Alice doesn’t understand, because they’ve won already.

“What do you mean? You’ve shut off the transport, you’ve gotten rid of the Daleks, except the one that got away, but one always gets away. And we always deal with it. I don’t understand what’s wrong.”

He’s panicking, and it’s infecting her now. She’s never, never seen him this frantic. He digs the heels of his palms into his forehead, his eyes screwed shut as something between a growl and scream rips from his throat.

“No, no, no! It can’t be…I won’t…”

“Doctor, please, I don’t know what to do…I can help, but please you’ve got to tell me!”

But he’s frenetic now, almost hysterical, and beyond reason. “Over fifty years, and you still can’t bloody listen to me! You never listened to me, and now look at what’s happened! I turn my back for ten minutes, and they’ve got you, and I can’t fix this bloody mess! Why didn’t you stay where I told you?!? Why couldn’t you bloody well stay in the TARDIS? And now I’m losing you, and you couldn’t just…just…stay…”

The silence is worse than his yelling.

His chest is heaving and his face is dark as he turns to Alice. “I can’t save you, Alice.”

“From what? I don’t understand!”

He crosses the room in three strides and grasps her hard by the shoulders. 

“They’ve opened a rift in the universe, and they’ve made you the only thing that can close it.”

She’s so bewildered she can barely respond. “So tell me what to do, how to close it. We’ve done this before.”

He has to take a deep breath and swallow hard before answering her. “You don’t understand. They’ve made you—you—literally the only thing that can close the rift. And they’ve anchored you to the other side.” He stops, and his fingers are digging into her shoulders, and Alice can’t get her head around it.

“Then how am I still here? Why am I not…I don’t know, gone? How can…what…Doctor?”

He gathers her into his arms, and she thinks she is probably more terrified than she’s been since the last time she thought he’d died. Her words come out in a desperate, muddled, sob.

“I won’t leave you, I promised I wouldn’t; you can’t make me break that promise. You have to…you always, please. Please, Doctor, I won’t leave you alone!”

She can’t see his face; his arms are too tight let her move. A tear rolls down Alice’s face that isn’t hers.

“I can do one thing, but it’s not…it won’t…”

She shoves him back so she can see him properly. Why are they wasting giving in to the dramatic wailing when they swore they wouldn’t if there’s something they can actually do?

“What? Tell me! If there’s a chance, any chance, I’ll take it! Anything!”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and visibly grabs at the last of his self-control. 

“I can split you. It’s your physical energy that’s holding the rift open. When that energy crosses the divide, when it’s gone into the Void, the rift will close, and this universe will be safe.”

She’s forgotten the explosions, the chaos around them until just now. The floor rocks under their feet. Alice’s universe shivers.

“I can split your consciousness from your body during the transport process, I can keep your mind on this side while…while your body seals the tear. In the last moment before you…as the…as the tear closes. You’ll be energy, but not the kind the rift wants, and you’d be free. At least, your mind would be.”

“Could I stay with you if I’m like that?”

Something explodes nearby, and the ground shifts, throwing Alice hard into the Doctor. He grabs her hand, and she just manages to stay on her feet.

“You have to decide if you want this. You won’t be alive, you won’t be anything but energy and thought. You won’t even have form, not really. Pure consciousness. You won’t even have an image.”

“But could I stay with you?”

“You’ll be able to go anywhere a thought can go.”

Save the world, save the universe, and save the Doctor. But not Alice. There’s not even a decision to be made, as far as she’s concerned.

“Turn the transporter back on.”

The universe is ripping apart around them, but the sight of the Doctor breaking down in front of her is the worst thing she’s ever witnessed.

“I can’t do it; I won’t do this to you! We’re not supposed to end like this!” His words come out as a plea, as roar, louder than the ship around us breaking into pieces. The tears on his face shine red in the glare of the emergency lights.

“You’re mine, my human, my Alice, and I was supposed to get to keep you! I don’t want you to go.”

She doesn’t know where the strength comes from to finally move, but she finds herself looking at him from the middle of the transporter plate. She’s failing miserably at her attempt at bravery, though, and if this doesn’t end soon she might have to take the universe with her just so she can keep him.

“I will always be your Alice, and you can still keep a piece of me if we hurry. I know it’s not the same, but it has to be enough, Doctor. This is our sunset. You have to let the sun go down so the stars can come out.”

“Damn the bloody stars!”

Then he’s in front of Alice, kissing her, squeezing her breathless. He finally pulls away to rest his forehead on top of hers.

“Doctor, we don’t have a lot of time, and you have to promise me a few things before I go.” This calm collected voice really can’t be Alice’s, yet she knows she needs it to say all the things he needs to hear.

“Anything.”

“You can’t blame yourself for this. I know you will, and you’ve got to realize there’s nothing you could have done differently.”

“But—”

She places her fingers over his lips, the last time she will ever do so. She tries not to think about that.

“I am talking.”

Two tears slide down his face, and he swallows hard.

“I’ve had a lifetime with you, more than fifty years, and I should have known I was being greedy to expect any more. You’ve given me more than I ever dreamed possible; you’ve given me the universe and time itself. It’ll never be enough, but it’s more than I could have ever deserved.”

“Second thing: you can’t stay by yourself for too long. You know how you get, and you know it’s not good for you.”

His eyes are closed as he listens, his jaw clenched as he shakes his head and spits out his furious response.

“I will never do this again, I can’t. Not to anyone else. I’ve destroyed too many people, and now I’ve destroyed someone I should’ve spent the rest of my life with.”

“Stop it!” She’s never sounded this harsh with him, but it’s the only thing that could shake him from his thoughts.

“You can’t stay alone. You promised me anything, and this is one of those things! You. Do. Not. Work. Alone. It’s the Doctor and a companion. Period. I’m not asking you to replace me, I don’t want you to. But I can’t bear the thought of you being alone. You need someone with you, it’s just…it’s who you are. It’s right.”

He’s still shaking his head. More explosions.

“When I first met you, the one I thought was the first time, right after you lost Astrid, I knew there was something not right about you that night. It’s because you were alone, and you thought you deserved to be, thought you needed to be. This is one of those times where you’re wrong, and you’ve got to trust me to see the detail that you’re missing.”

There’s a shrieking of metal, and the walls around them bulge and twist. They haven’t got long.

“You have to try to leave me behind,” Alice whispers. “Don’t forget me, but don’t torture yourself with the memory of me. And don’t torture anyone else, either. You nearly had me quitting on you those first few months with all the mentions of Rose and Martha and Sarah Jane. When you find someone new, and you will, don’t beat them over the head with the people you’ve lost. To them, just let me not exist; don’t tell them about me, don’t talk about me. Give them a chance to just be themselves.”

“They never will be you, though. I’ll never find anyone like you again.”

She nods, pushing him toward the controls. “I know. I’m an anomaly, a freak of nature, yeah? But you can’t punish someone else for not being me.”

He’s silent as he adjusts dials and uses his sonic to do who knows what to the transporter. Suddenly, his back goes rigid and his fists slam down, hammering onto the panel. She has a moment of fierce hope and terrible dread that he’s smashed the controls. 

“I can’t do this! I won’t kill you! We were supposed to have all the rest of time together!”

“Doctor.”

Her voice is quiet, almost inaudible amongst the shrieks and crashes around us, but she knows he can hear her.

“Doctor, kiss me once more and let me go.”

He doesn’t respond, and his only movement is the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

“Doctor, we’re killing the universe. You’ve got to.”

“The universe can go to hell if I can’t keep you.”

“That’s not you, and that’s not us. What’ve we been doing all these years if you’re just going to let it end like this? I can’t work the controls, I need you to do that, and I’m so sorry. You promised me you wouldn’t give up until after the end, and you can still save that small part of me. Kiss me one last time, and let me go.”

And he does. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to release him, but somehow Alice forces her arms down and makes herself try to smile at him.

She’s so scared.

“Will I…will I remember anything?”

His shoulders slump as he faces her for the last time over the control panel.

“I don’t honestly know. It comes out different each time. Just like people.”

“Will it hurt?”

“I won’t let it.”

“Please remember your promises.”

“Anything for you.”

She waits, but he doesn’t move. 

“Doctor, I’m sorry you have to do this, but I can’t operate the controls from here. I haven’t quite mastered telekinesis yet.” I love you. She thinks this last bit at him, as hard as she can, and though telepathy has never worked out well for them, she knows that this time, this one time, the message has gotten through exactly the way it should.

He pulls the lever slowly down, his eyes locked on hers. Alice sees the look there in his eyes one last time, all those things he said and the three words he always meant to. And then there is a bright, blue light, piercing through everything that is Alice, and though she feels a terrible splintering, there is no pain.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” It’s a whisper, but it reaches her even as she is falling.

Then her universe fractures, and there is nothing but darkness. 

…

The Doctor stands alone on the bridge of the ship they’ve saved, listening to the cheers of all the people who will live because of her. Because of his Alice.

The wetness on his cheeks dries, but still he doesn’t move. Why should he? What’s there to move for? No one waiting to pull him out of this wretched place; there are no smiles and horribly out of tune singing waiting to greet him back on the TARDIS, no questions or fancy dress balls.

He turns, letting his back thump against the control panel as he slides to the floor. He has no idea if what he did worked. He couldn’t see anything come out of the transport…only Alice absorbed by it.

No one’s bothered to shut off the emergency sirens or lights yet, so he simply lets the noise drown out his thoughts. If it’s loud enough, maybe he won’t have to think any more.

He’s awfully tired of thinking. Come to think of it, he’s awfully tired of everything.


	28. Chapter 28

28\. In which we say farewell to some old friends and meet some new ones.

There's a lot of floating. It takes effort to stay still, and since the TARDIS is always moving, it's easier to simply go with the flow.

The Doctor does stay alone for a while, but Alice thought he might. He isn't breaking his promise, she knows. He simply can't bear anyone's company yet. He stays in the TARDIS for several weeks, sitting on their jump seat next to the control panel and staring at the floor. The TARDIS literally has to dump him outside and dematerialize to get him to even interact with the outside world and other people again.

Eventually, though, he goes back to Earth. Alice and the TARDIS agree that they knew he would.

He just needed some time.

The TARDIS, having collaborated with Alice on occasion, finds just the right time for him: she locates the woman he told Alice about once: Donna Noble, the woman who knew him so well after just one meeting. She is exactly what he needs right now, and Alice and the TARDIS do their best to make sure he sees that.

At the end of their encounter, Donna excitedly starts piling suitcases into the Doctor's arms, chatting away happily. She throws a large hatbox on top of the pile, and the Doctor stares at her.

"You've got a…a hatbox."

She turns back to him from the trunk of her car, grinning brilliantly. "Planet of the Hats, I'm ready!"

Alice loves Donna already.

The Doctor is quiet, though, and Alice can feel him thinking of her. His eyes drift upwards to where she's drifting just over Donna's head, and she wonders if he can somehow actually sense her.

"It's a funny old life…In the TARDIS. The last time…" He hesitates, and Alice concentrates harder than she has since she fractured, willing him to change his sentence. He continues talking, but she can sense him turning the conversation towards her.

Don't mention me, don't mention me. If Alice had a voice she'd be chanting right now. Of course, if she had a voice, this whole situation might not be happening. She can feel how strongly the Doctor is thinking of her, and she focuses just a little more. If there's anything that could ruin this situation, it would be Alice.

"With…Martha, like I said, it got complicated. That was my fault. I just want a mate."

"You just want to mate?!"

Alice loves Donna even more.

She has no idea how, but somehow the Doctor knows Alice is there; he can sense her on a couple of different levels. Every now and then, he looks right at her wherever she happens to be drifting at the moment. Every now and then, so softly that even other people in the console room can't hear him, he still says it.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my Alice."

But Alice isn't. She can keep her promise to him, just as he keeps his promises to her. He never mentions her to Donna, or anyone else for that matter. And she watches over him, and he isn't alone anymore.

And it's not a bad existence. Alice can never again have the life she led with him once upon a time when they danced through the stars together. That life is lost. But she still gets to stay with him, and she doesn't feel like she could truthfully expect any more.

She is there to forgive him his darkest moments, the things that Donna would never have let him get away with. Alice and Donna both warned him he that needed to not be alone, after all, and sometimes the stupid man just won't listen.

But his best friend is gone, his Rose is locked away forever with another man, and everyone has left him again. So who else is left to help him?

Alice is there at the end, when he is finally dying on the TARDIS, alone as he always feared he would be. He's said his fairwells to his companions, taking one last look to make sure they're all safe and settled in their lives.

"I don't want to go."

And Alice knows this is what she's been waiting for, watching him for so long. She can finally help him, show him that in the one most important moment when everyone in the world fears they will be alone, he has someone with him, and he always will.

For the briefest of moments, she slips inside the regenerative energy, melding with its pattern, concentrating harder than on anything else in her existence. In the end, all she can manage is ten small words, and she hopes fervently that it's enough.

I love you. I am here. I am with you.

Then her Doctor is gone, replaced by a stranger who is impressively excited to have the proper amounts of limbs. But he's not really a stranger, after all, is he?

And despite what he says, Alice wouldn't say he's a girl, but that hair really is a bit much, she won't lie.

The TARDIS burns, and the Doctor falls with her.

He meets Amelia Pond, a young girl who by every right should be terrified by this eccentric, manic stranger who eats fish fingers dipped in custard. But she isn't, she's not even frightened, and Alice can see this is going to work out splendidly.

He leaves Amelia for short time that stretches into many years in just a span of moments. Then he comes back, and they save the world together. Not bad for his first day or so on the job.

Then the TARDIS finishes healing, and he steps inside, fully intending to return after just a quick jog to the moon and back. Surely no more than a few minutes or a couple of hours at the most.

Alice has heard that one before. Amelia's got another wait ahead of her, Alice thinks.

He turns to face the new control room, taking everything in as he leans back against the door. He takes a deep breath.

"Look at you, you sexy thing. Look at you!"

He steps inside, shutting the door behind him.

"So this is the new me. And this is the new here and now. And this is the new TARDIS."

Then he looks right at Alice.

"And there you are, like always. Like you promised. You were there, at the end. When…When I needed you."

He contemplates her a moment, and this new face is so strange and so familiar to her all at once. And now that she has no more mental blocks (she's not much more than a thought anyway), she does remember him and all the times he came to see her. For a moment, Alice despairs at the thought of the heartache ahead of him that's so great that he would risk changing his own past just to come see her again. But she's tired now, she's been concentrating for so long. It's really time for a bit of a rest, Alice thinks.

Then he smiles, straightens his bow tie, and leaps over to the controls.

"I'm about to be extremely clever. Ready to look impressed?"

Always, Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never wanted this story to end. I actually finished it a while back but forgot to post to this site, so for that delay, I apologize. Even now, years later, this is still my favorite thing I've ever written. It's actually one of my favorite stories, and sometimes I'll go back and read it. Thank you to everyone who kept up with it, who left me notes of encouragement. I love Alice, and I miss writing her and wish I'd been able to scratch out a few more chapters, but none of the ideas I came up with flowed like these few. Thank you again, and if you have a moment, please just leave a few words of what you thought.


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